Penance
by petthekat
Summary: When a lab accident leaves Donnie unrecognizable, the turtles decide to use it to their advantage by infiltrating Shredder's Foot Clan and getting a cure for Karai. However, as the effects of Donnie's change grow more pronounced, April begins to wonder whether the real Donnie will ever get back to them... or if he'll be lost to this dark new life. Cover Art by Triacylglycerol.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Hey guys! I'm back! Super excited about this, so let's go. A few notes first. This fic is unrelated to Therapy and April's feelings in Therapy do not necessarily represent how she feels in this fic. Separate them in your mind. Second, there will be a lot of "science" in this fic that will, ah-ha, not be real science at all. It mostly surrounds the use of mutagen. I find that the results of mutagen in the show are so wildly unpredictable that not a lot of explanation is truly necessary. Still, I thought I'd preface this by saying that there is no real rhyme or reason to it. Likewise, I've taken a few liberties with Karai's mutation that are not overly important and shouldn't be too bothersome.

Last, I want you all to know that I'm aware that this sort of plot point has been done before. However, I can assure you it's heading in a very interesting direction! Please stick with me. I'm so happy to be writing this story and I want to share it with you all like nothing else in the world!

**This takes place directly after Vengeance is Mine. **

I do not own TMNT, of course.

* * *

Penance.

It was something Donatello wasn't remarkably familiar with in the early years of his life. Unlike Raphael, he largely lacked the temperament or rash thinking that led to poor decisions. Everything was evaluated, tested, calculated and hypothesized. Making mistakes was something he didn't have time for and, to be honest, he didn't have the patience for it either. One of the burdens of being so self-aware, he supposed in retrospect. The purple-banded turtle was constantly re-evaluating himself and his surroundings, searching for faults to be repaired, improvements to be made and new ideas to be formed. He thrived on it, and the knowledge that he had the capacity to better the lives of his family with his work made it all the more satisfying.

So when the day came that Donatello was forced to look back and accept all that he had done, it was with an unfamiliar, gut-wrenching sort of apprehension. One that let him know that penance was more than suffering and regret. It was action.

All of this started because he wanted to fix something. And yet after it was all done, he had no choice but to start from scratch.

He'd be damned if he let that stop him, though.

* * *

It was raining again.

Thunder rolled overhead and Donatello looked up, squinting behind his mask as a raindrop landed in his eye. He sputtered and rubbed at it with his knuckles, all the while trying to keep the other open for any hint of movement on the rooftops. She'd been here last, when Raphael and Casey had spotted her a week ago. But she'd been gone in a flash of silver and purple, and now they were on the hunt once more.

Next to him, Mikey shivered. "Dude," the youngest turtle whispered to him. "I am freezing my tail off out here, bro!"

Donnie glanced at his brother and rolled his eyes. "We all are, Mikey, but we still have a whole night to go. It's only been an hour!"

He watched as Mikey scrunched his face up in dismay. "It feels like a million," he muttered, wringing out the tails of his orange mask. Donnie patted his brother's head sympathetically and pulled him up closer to his side. The two of them sat high above their brothers on a tall water tower. It gave them the best vantage point from this part of town, but Donatello couldn't help but wonder if Leo had ordered them to watch out here because it was the rooftop he and Karai had met on all those months ago.

He'd never said as much, but Donnie was observant enough to notice his oldest brother's wistful glances when they'd first arrived. Now Leonardo's sharp gaze followed the line of buildings in front of them, unblinking and unwavering even in the onslaught of rain. Raphael stood nearby, his eyes equally acute. It was nice of Raphael, Donnie thought. He was giving just as much effort to this search as Leo, and Donnie could only figure it was because he hated see his older brother so forlorn.

Donnie's t-phone buzzed and he cringed.

He could _feel _Leonardo's glare, but he quickly pulled out the device and tucked under an awning to scan the text. He breathed out in relief. "Leo!" He dragged Mikey down from the water tower with him and landed at his brother's feet. "April says she and Casey spotted Karai, come on!" The four of them burst into action with Leo at the front, charging them over rooftops and around fire escapes. Donnie's feet pounded the surface of the roofs, slowing only when he caught wind of the noise from the streets.

"Oh, no..." Donnie skidded to a stop and pointed. "Guys, over there!"

By the time they dropped down to the streets, it didn't matter if they were spotted by humans or not. The damage caused by the Foot Bots and the mutated Karai caused enough alarm on their own. "Get to her before they do!" Leo called out before leaping into the fray. Donnie groaned quietly – this was pure chaos – but he snapped his bo staff into his hand and did as he was told.

The mutated Karai was alarmingly vicious. Foot Bots swarmed around her, grappling with ropes to try and subdue her, but the multiple snake heads that served as her hands snapped and bit at them with every single turn. Donnie ducked just as her massive tail caught a parked car and sent it crashing into a bakery overhead. "I hope those people have insurance," he muttered, barely containing a shriek as a Foot Bot's head flew by and smashed into a mailbox. The sound was deafening on the streets, what with people screaming and car alarms sounding over and over and over again until something (or someone) knocked into it with enough force to shut it up.

"Whoa!" Donnie smashed his bo staff into a Foot Bot's back and knocked it out of the way, but every time he tried to pull one of them away from Karai, he found it was difficult to keep their attention. In fact, it was the first and only time he could remember being annoyed at how little they were fighting. They were too preoccupied with trying to contain Karai, who hissed and shrieked at anyone and everything nearby.

"Ahh!" Mikey went flying through the window of a radio shop and Donnie winced. The rain was coming down twice as hard now and everyone was suffering for it. His head jerked up when he realized Leo was shouting again, but he wasn't talking to any of the turtles. He was trying to talk to her. Again. God, why did he do this to himself?

Donnie jumped up and swatted away a Foot Bot. "She can't communicate with you, Leo!" he shouted, kicking another robotic ninja in the chest. Meanwhile, Raphael was dragging Mikey out of a pile of rubble and supporting him with one arm.

"Mikey's down! We gotta go, Leo!" he shouted over the noise, but Leonardo wasn't having any of it. Donnie sighed deep in his chest and watched as Leo killed one, two, three more bots, slicing them into popping pieces of wires and boxes. The mutated Karai turned on him suddenly and hissed, fangs bared and some sort of a mutagenic poison dotted the ground under her gaping jaw.

"Leo, move!" Donnie shouted, leaping from his spot and knocking his brother out of the way. The two of them crashed to the ground just as Karai's serpentine head jerked up and spotted some fleeing humans. With a great heave, she spat the corrosive poison their way and then sped off just as lightning sliced through the sky.

Donnie shifted from his spot on the ground just in time to see the mutagenic substance fly in the face of the humans. The screams from the woman were so loud and pained, it made him wince. He jumped up to go help them, but his feet stumbled and he could only watch in horror as both of the humans writhed, flailed and clawed wildly at their faces. Then, without warning, their screams shifted into something deeper and more guttural. Their bodies began to change shape and contort, leaving Donnie with nothing to do but watch helplessly as they mutated in the middle of the street. Steam wafted up from the asphalt as the rain continued to pour down, but it did nothing to mask the image of two grotesque mutated figures staggering away, clawing and biting at themselves before they darted into the alleyways.

"Her venom – God, did you see it, Leo?" Donnie whirled on his brother, his mouth parted and his chest heaving. Every inch of him was freezing and now his insides twisted with fear. "Leo, are you even paying attention -"

But when Donnie looked at his brother, Leonardo wasn't watching the people. He was looking in the direction Karai had sped off to, his hands tight on his katana and his jaw clenched. When he finally looked back at Donatello, he could only shake his head. "Let's go."

Donnie frowned. "What about the Foot Bots? I mean, they're... not even attacking us anymore."

"They didn't want us," Leo growled quietly, his chest expanding briefly with a deep breath. "They wanted Karai. Shredder's trying to get to her before we do so he can change her back and make her his again." Donnie's frown deepened. "Surely she wouldn't..."

"How long do you think that retro-mutagen will take?"

The question lingered just long enough for Donnie's shoulders to slump. He slipped his bo staff back into place and shook his head. "I … I don't know, Leo."

Donnie watched as his brother exhaled, and he wondered when he'd last seen him look so tired. It made his chest hurt to see his normally confident brother look so helpless and lost, so _burdened_. Leonardo shook his head again, and this time he gave no orders. Instead, he simply sheathed his weapons and walked past Donnie without another word.

The rain poured all night.

* * *

"Hey there," came a distant voice from the doorway of his lab. Donnie continued to squint through his microscope and muttered something in reply, only vaguely registering that someone had spoken at all. A figure shifted in the desk chair right next to him and a familiar laugh rang through the lab.

"Wow, Donnie. I think that's the most unenthusiastic response I've ever gotten from you," April O'Neil said wryly. A gentle touch to his shoulder had Donnie jerking away from his microscope and it took a moment of dazed blinking before he could smile sheepishly. The redhead seated next to him was a welcome sight on any day. Particularly when she wasn't being trailed by _Casey. _

"Sorry," he managed a lopsided grin. April tilted her head at him and her smile slowly fell away.

"Are you okay?" she asked, her brow furrowed. She glanced at the busy desk, full to bursting with print-outs, lab samples, slides and containers. She turned back at Donnie and tilted her head, noting the exhaustion that colored his features. "How long have you been in here?"

Donnie hummed as he fought to remember. A glance at the clock told him that he'd forgotten to change the batteries in it. Huh. That was extraordinarily useless, he thought bitterly. "I really don't know," he admitted with a shrug. He quickly turned back to his microscope, mostly in an effort to avoid April's worried frown. Normally, he loved to know she was concerned for him, but this was one time he couldn't afford to be distracted. "I've been re-working my retro-mutagen formula and it's taking me forever," he dragged a three-fingered hand down his face and groaned. "I mean, the sooner I can come up with a dependable formula, the sooner we can get Karai back to normal. April, this is getting serious." He turned to face her, watching as her eyes became illuminated with interest.

"When we spotted her the other night, she was _mutating _people with her venom. Just out in the streets!" Donnie waved an arm, his voice reaching embarrassingly high octaves in his agitated state. "I don't know how cognizant she is of what she's doing, but she is wreaking full on havoc in the city and I don't know what to do about it!"

"Donnie," April touched his arm. "This isn't your burden alone, ya know."

"Of course it is," Donnie groaned, taking no solace in her touch. His mind was a flurry of images, diagrams, numbers and guessing games. He sighed heavily and pushed away from his desk, rolling his eyes as a cup of pens fell to the floor and scattered. He didn't pick them up. Screw it. "I mean, it's up to me to figure out how to change her back! And then – I mean, it's not the same as when I un-mutated your dad. Whatever that stupid Baxter Stockman did to the mutagen he used on her, it's changed how the retro-mutagen reacts. The few samples I have to work with are giving me _no _conclusive results, my mutagen supply is limited, and I'm working with equipment that isn't up to the task for this sort of research!" He flailed his arms out, exasperated.

"Donnie!" The redhead jumped up and slowed him again, this time by holding his arm firmly. He looked away from her, shame burning his cheeks. The last person he wanted to list his failings to was April O'Neil, but still, she was the easiest person to talk to. It was one of the reasons he carried such a special place for her in his heart. Sure, maybe she still had this... thing... with Casey, but she had never, ever failed Donatello as a friend. And even now, he felt a curious sort of relief as her hand touched his face in a way he'd never seen her do with his brothers. He let his eyes close for just a moment of respite.

"Look," she said softly, pulling him close. "I know this is stressful and you want to help, but you're going to drive yourself crazy trying to carry all of this on your shoulders. Let your brothers help, Don. Let me help. You don't have to do this all alone."

Donnie sighed softly and let his head fall closer to hers. As so often happened when it was just the two of them, April let him lean against her and place his cheek against hers. It was normally all he needed to calm his nerves, but tonight, his body and mind were set in their stubborn ways.

"You didn't see Leo's face tonight, April..." he murmured, his much larger hands finding her upper arms. April curled her fingers against his cheek. "He's ... I don't know how to describe it. I've never seen him like this before. All he wants is to get Karai back and un-mutated, and I'm the only chance he has. And for Newton's sake, Master Splinter... " Donnie lifted his head and bit his lip, his eyes downcast. April's sympathy was almost too much to bear at the moment.

"He had his only daughter, his only blood, back for less than one night. And now she's gone. How can I let myself enjoy anything when my family's living under the weight of that kind of misery?"

April's eyes crinkled as the sadness lingered between them. She shook her head, as if she knew there was no right answer. Instead, she simply slipped her arms around his shoulders and stood on her tiptoes to hug him comfortably. Donnie touched the small of her back, his eyes open and looking over the top of her head at the doors to his lab.

Even hugging April now wracked him with guilt. Whether he had the liberty to explain his feelings to her or not, at least the girl he loved was safe and at his side. Somewhere, in the distant corners of the lair, his brother and Sensei sat in their respective places and meditated through their grief.

Each knowing that it would never be enough.

* * *

"So what's this stuff?"

"It's acid, Mikey. Don't touch it."

"Can I borrow it?"

"No."

"Can I use it to melt something?"

"No... Mikey..."

A dangerously long pause. "What about this stuff -"

"What part of _Get Out Of My Lab _do you not understand?" Donnie shrieked, wheeling around in his chair.

Mikey froze mid-motion, his hand extended towards a bottle labeled as _Highly Volatile. _"I just wanted to help!" Donnie growled and hopped out of his hair, eliciting a screech from his youngest brother, who fought to get away.

"You don't want to help! You want to blow stuff up!"

"So? That's all you do!"

Donnie's eyes flashed, his fingers curled into tight fists at his sides. He was working on three days without sleep, an Overdose-worthy amount of coffee and regular meals of pop-tarts. Having Mikey bouncing around his lab like an errant puppy was simply _not _something he could contend with today. However, at Mikey's jab, he felt his rage threaten to boil over. "That's … all I do? Blow stuff up? You think that's _all I do _in here?" Donnie shouted. The door to his lab slid open roughly and Raphael entered, munching on one of Donnie's pop-tarts. The purple-banded turtle cringed, trying to control the full force of his frustration.

"What's all the yellin' about?" he asked mildly, eyeing Donnie's overflowing desk.

"I was just trying to help Donnie, that's all," Mikey said plaintively, blinking his blue eyes. Raphael snickered and tossed his wrapper aside. It landed on Donnie's microscope slides. His eye twitching was in such force it was nearly blinding.

"_GET OUT OF MY LAB! BOTH OF YOU!" _

"Hey, you calm down before I knock the shell out of you," Raphael snapped. Donnie growled, though he did take a step back at Raphael's advance. He couldn't have that numbskull breaking anymore of his things. He needed his limited supplies.

"Get out or I'm telling Master Splinter," he threatened, but as soon as the words were out, he knew they were a mistake.

Raph and Mikey both burst into laughter. "Oooh, I'm tellin' Master Splinter on you!" Raphael mocked, grinning and prodding Mikey. "Geez, what a baby."

Donnie scowled. "I'm trying to do important work in here -"

"Everything you do is 'important' dude," Mikey said distractedly, prodding a beaker until Donnie slapped his hands away.

"Mikey, I will not tell you again -"

"Except you will," Raphael appeared in front of him and folded his arms over his plastron. "Because you're not the boss of anyone here and no one's gonna listen. Lay off'a Mikey." He snatched up the youngest brother by the shoulder and pushed him in the direction of the door.

Donnie stared incredulously. "You beat up Mikey like – every single day!" he shouted at the retreating backs of his brothers.

Raphael scoffed and waved an arm dismissively as they walked out. "Come on, bro," he said to Mikey, just loud enough for Donnie to hear. "Let's leave Donnie to his science fair projects." The door slid shut with a slam.

Their disappearance left Donnie deflated. His anger simmered and settled under his skin, leaving him with a growing headache and a torrent of volatile emotions. It was just like Raphael to brush off his work, to act like he was in here concocting love potions or miracle cures. Like his work didn't matter. His inventions had saved that stupid brother of his so many times! Donnie dropped his heavy arms onto the desk and clenched his eyes closed.

He would show them. He'd cure Karai and all the poor victimized humans in the city, too. And one day – maybe in an alternate universe – they'd appreciate him. If only for a moment.

* * *

"No more sightings, then?" Donnie shifted his t-phone to his shoulder and moved around the breakfast food on his plate. His brothers ate in various states of involvement around him, occasionally making the same unruly racket they always managed, so he moved away from the bar and into the living area.

"Not of Karai, no." April sighed into the phone. "Though there have been more people mutated and I think it's definitely her doing. This entire city is going to be overrun if we don't stop her." She paused and then hurried on. "But don't worry, we'll figure it out." Donnie smiled just a bit. She knew him so well.

"Yeah, well, that's a nice thought. How was school?"

April made a sputtering noise that brought a real smile to his face. He dropped onto the couch and winced, shifting briefly to pull a fish hook out of the cushions. What in the world? He shook his head and dropped it onto the coffee table. "I'm finally getting in some study time, but right now I'm working on a term paper and it's just killing me. Normally, I love writing, but the research takes forever to go through and cite. It's so nitpicky!"

Donnie snickered softly. "Yeah, well, I can understand that. I think I have twenty pages of DNA code to sort through tonight."

"Hey, try to get some sleep at some point, okay?" April's voice lilted and Donnie could easily imagine her concerned smile. "You're gonna look like an old turtle man if you keep pulling those all-nighter's." Donnie peered at his green toes from where he'd propped them up against the table.

"I'll live," he said simply, earning a frustrated grunt from the girl on the phone.

"Donnie, don't make me do something drastic." He paused, considering what "drastic" could mean and what he thought might be enjoyable within that range of options. Most of them, he realized with a nod.

"By all means," he smirked.

April laughed on her end of the phone. "Okay, you know what? You're delirious. I gotta go hit the library for a while, okay? I'll talk to you later."

"Be safe," was his customary good-bye, heartfelt and sincere.

"I will," she replied as she often did, equally genuine. The phone disconnected and Donnie dropped his hand into his lap, his head falling back with a thunk. He only had a few minutes to himself before Leo was calling them together for training.

* * *

Donnie had always considered group training to be an exercise in numbers. The number of strikes it took to take down each of his brothers respectively, the repetition of the _kata, _the percentages of success in rolls, jabs and blocks. Master Splinter was always telling him to _think _less and _fight _more, but that was easier said than done. Besides, the sort of rhetoric involved in Donnie's fighting was soothing to him in the same ways meditation was to Master Splinter.

Sensei had told him to live in a place in between his thoughts, but those distances often varied. Right now, for example, he felt the walls of his thoughts closing in on him as he fought to stand his ground against his brothers. Raph was being particularly harsh today, perhaps because of their earlier argument, but even his sort of aggressive tactics were no match for Leo.

_Cold_ was the best word to describe him. Donnie and Mikey watched from the side of the rugs as the two brothers dueled, each meeting the other in increasingly heated strikes. Leo's blue eyes narrowed dangerously on Raphael and, in one swift movement, he toppled him over and cut through the air with his blade. It dropped just above Raphael's wide eyes and then stopped, scarcely an inch away.

"That is enough," Master Splinter said from the forefront of the mats. Leonardo pulled away, his gaze sliding to the wall and settling there. Donnie's lips curled in the now familiar frown as he watched him struggle to face Raphael with something other than apathy.

"Good moves," he told him without any real enthusiasm, extending a hand to help him up.

Raphael took it cautiously and righted himself. "Yeah," he said, eyeing his brother. He glanced at the other two, who shrugged in response. As the others moved to disperse, Donnie stayed in his kneeled position for a long moment and studied his family members. Master Splinter was difficult to read, as he had always been, but there was a distinctive slump to his shoulders that Donatello couldn't miss. Leonardo stayed away from the others, and although he had always been the most serious in training, he now carried a stand-offish aura that hadn't been there before. Raphael, normally unconcerned with the moods of others, glanced between the family members with a sort of rare disbelief, his expression put-out and confused, perhaps even sad.

Even Mikey wasn't unaware of the tension that had pervaded the lair over the past few weeks. He tried to joke and prod but was increasingly met with less and less reception. It made the usually boisterous young turtle uncertain and wary. He still laughed often, but it was usually colored by a hint of force, as if he was only laughing because he was used to it. Donnie rose from his feet and drank all of this in. Every ounce of concern, regret, fear and sadness washed over him in a mixture of guilt. His family was on the brink of falling apart.

He had to do something.

* * *

Donatello chewed on his lip. He eyed the vial and then turned away, ignoring it one more. His eyes drifted back. He blinked. Calculated in his head, considered the possibilities -

No.

He wouldn't do it. It was morally questionable and the sake of science could only excuse so many things. Donnie turned back to his original formula for the retro-mutagen and began to scour his notes again. There had to be something he was missing, something painfully obvious. He needed to get through – No, that wouldn't work either.

He looked to the vial of red liquid. Should he?

How questionable was it, _really? _It wasn't as if he was hurting anyone. He didn't steal it. Maybe... No, Master Splinter would never approve. Or would he? It was Karai they were taking about, after all. Maybe it wouldn't be that odd.

Then again, given Master Splinter's aversion to modern day technology, perhaps he would find the idea disturbing and reprehensible. Donnie growled and dropped a heavy fist to his desk, rattling the microscope. He glanced around his lab, as if its montage of medical charts and randomly acquired instruments might help him.

They didn't, of course.

He shuffled his papers, mostly to buy himself some thinking time. He straightened his desk, organized his pens, and damn it all – he kept looking at that little vial. Maybe it wouldn't even make a difference. Maybe he could put it with the formula and nothing could change. Then he'd be worried for nothing.

Or it could change everything.

Donnie scowled to himself. He was wasting time! Images flashed in his mind of the humans he'd seen helplessly mutate right in front of him, of Karai falling limply out of that vat of mutagen and into Master Splinter' arms. Of the wild fear he'd felt when April had been dropped into the mutagen, even though she'd come out unharmed. If she'd emerged looking like Karai...

Donnie shuddered.

This time, when his eyes drifted to the vial, he reached over and picked it up. He turned it in his fingers, his eyes moving over the label and then to his set of beakers. His latest brew of retro-mutagen hissed over the top of a small flame. It was the last bit he'd had, not enough to help Karai but only enough to let him know if he had the right combination of chemicals. If he could create a viable sample, he could hold onto it until he obtained more mutagen and recreate it in a larger quantity.

With a soft growl of determination, Donatello stood and moved over to the beaker. He raised the temperature, calculated the effects and then, with a great heave, he overturned the red vial into the bubbling liquid. He emptied every last drop and then tilted his head, his eyes dancing over the reaction as it sizzled and hissed.

The liquid gurgled and Donnie moved to turn down the heat, the small vial still in hand, but no sooner had he reached for the knob than something happened. Something he felt like he saw in slow motion, even though it was practically instantaneous.

The beaker of retro-mutagen _erupted_.

When he fought to remember the fateful evening sometime later, he could only recall being blown off his feet and into a wall, a shower of glass and heat raining down on him from above. His head slammed into the opposite wall of his lab, a table toppled near him and nearly crushed his legs, and his last fleeting thought was that damn it, maybe Mikey was right.

Maybe blowing things up was all he really did.

* * *

Oh, _Newton on a Cracker. _His head hurt.

Donnie struggled to push himself off the wall, but he fell back against it with a pained thud. Somewhere in the distance, he heard a pounding on the lab door.

"Uh, bro? You okay in there?" It was Mikey. Donnie winced and fought to coerce his vision into something of use. Everything in his lab was doubled, or at least, everything that wasn't broken into a million pieces. Eugh.

"I heard something kinda explod-ey earlier and I thought I'd come check on ya," the youngest turtle called again through the door. "Actually, I heard it like thirty minutes ago, but I kinda got distracted by this cool show on tv. But I'm here now!"

He continued to jabber through the door, but his words faded away.

Donnie shifted and grunted in pain, wondering why in the _world _he felt so weak and disoriented. His vision finally settled into place, Donnie turned and braced himself against the wall with a bruised shoulder. However, when he attempted to stand, his knees buckled and he fell once more.

It was then that he managed to look ahead, his eyes clear and his head swimming, only to find himself in the reflective surface of a tool cabinet. What he saw made his face contort in the most elaborate, undignified expressions of fear ever to be seen.

He was looking at a _human_.

* * *

In the kitchen of the lair, Raphael glanced up at the sound of an comically high-pitched scream. He marched into the living room, cereal box in hand, only to see Mikey standing awkwardly at the laboratory door.

"The hell was that?"

"I think Donnie has one of those screaming goats in his lab," Mikey said matter-of-factly. "Which totally bites, because if I don't get to play with it," he turned to the door and shouted loudly. "I'm gonna be _real_ _mad_!"


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Definitely excited for the faves, follows and reviews! As anyone who read Therapy knows, I'm a total dork and I live to update. So here's a speedy one for you.

Sidenote: If anyone would love to make my day and submit any Therapy or Penance Fanart, please let me know! I would love to have something to use as a cover for either of my TMNT stories.

* * *

The lab swayed like the deck of a ship on high seas.

_I'm dead, _Donnie thought with a flash of blinding fear. _I have died and for some reason, my afterlife form is a naked human dude. _

He blinked to clear his vision, but when he did, the pain from his head caused him to pitch forward and yelp. He reached up a trembling hand – there was almost certainly blood dripping onto his shoulder – but before he could do anything further, the pounding on the door resumed. This time, it was the heavy hand of Raphael.

"Donnie, what's goin' on in there?"

Dark eyes shifted back to the reflective surface, and Donatello watched as the reflection stood dazedly and leaned heavily on the wall. He couldn't make out many details in the scrambled steel door that served as his mirror, and eventually, he had to look down to convince himself that this was all very, very real.

Human skin. No plastron. He brought his hand up in front of his face and flexed stiff, uncertain fingers.

A sob threatened to overwhelm him. Everything on this – _his –_ body hurt and ached. He dropped the hand and staggered, trying to reach his desk once more. He could hear Mikey and Raph working through the door, probably concerned he was hurt. And he was. Oh, God. It was worse than that. So, so much worse. Donnie fell to his knees and let out a shriek. On his hands and knees, covered in glass and cuts, the full realization hit him like a fist to the chest.

_Oh my god, I mutated myself! _

The full-scale Donatello freak-out began right then and there. He jumped up, fell, jumped up once more and this time stumbled into his rolling chair. It skidded across the floor with him in it and crashed into a shelf of beakers. With one last glance over his shoulder at the lab door, Donnie rolled on the chair – because _why in the hell wouldn't his legs work right –_ and scooted himself to the back door of his lab, which let into the turtle's sparsely used laundry room. Donnie fell through the doorway and into the tiny dark square, his eyes darting around wildly. He had to get out of here! He couldn't let his brothers see him like this, he just couldn't!

It was only when Donnie began to move towards the back door of the laundry room that he felt a strange, uncomfortable breeze. Something bounced oddly against his thigh. He looked down once more and choked.

"Holy _Darwin_!" he shrieked, his hands jumping down to tuck himself away between his legs. _How in the world do human males deal with this! _Donnie scrambled to hide it, protect it, but without his shell, he felt – well, naked, for lack of better word.

Donnie groaned. This was humiliating. Appalling. Mortifying. And there wasn't even anyone around to see it. _Yet. _If he stayed here, Mikey and Raph would find him and he'd have to explain just what the hell happened, even though he really had no idea. Maybe this was all a bad dream.

Quickly realizing he couldn't walk and keep .. _himself .. _hidden, Donnie gave up with a growl of frustration. Suddenly, his eyes landed on something – one of Master Splinter's robes! Donnie snatched it off the drying hook and wrapped it around himself. Realizing his bo staff wouldn't sit comfortably under the robe, he abandoned it and tightened the robe as much as he could. It dwarfed him and gaped open at the neck, but it was far better than being left in the nude. Deciding it good enough, Donnie half-ran, half-hobbled out of the back of the laundry room and into the sewer.

* * *

This was a bad idea, Donnie decided within just a few minutes of traipsing the sewers. He needed help. He thought back to his brothers and how he would explain himself. How all of this would _look _to them.

He sped on, away from the lair, and when he reached a ladder to the surface he climbed it all the grace and skill of a bull elephant. It was the most ignoble effort of hand-eye coordination he had ever displayed, and by the time his clumsy footing reached the sewer lid, he barely had the strength to push it aside.

Donnie rolled out into the alley and panted. It was nearly four full minutes before he realized he had landed near a hobo, who was munching a banana peel and staring at him.

"I like yer' robe," the man grunted. Donnie glanced over at him, his brows furrowed. Unable to think of an appropriate response, he gave the man a thumbs up. When he felt strong enough to walk again, he pushed himself up and cautiously stepped towards the street. Some people glanced at him curiously, others ignored him completely, but Donnie paid them no mind. He fell, stumbled and rolled from block to block, unsure of where he was going or just what he planned to do.

Then it appeared, like a beacon sent from the heavens.

"April," Donnie murmured, and with renewed vigor, he moved toward the antique shop and its overhead apartment with as much speed as he could muster. He bounced off nearly every corner and light pole on the way there, but when he arrived, he nearly shouted with joy.

Then, out of sheer habit, he moved away from the front and climbed the fire escape. By the time he reached the top, he was once again on the verge of collapsing. Master Splinter's robe was torn and filthy, but at least it still served its purpose. Donnie came to April's bedroom window and tried to knock, but his hand ended up dragging down the glass like a wounded animal.

_So.. exhausted... Body.. destroyed... _

He tried again to knock, but his body pitched forward and, as gracelessly as he had managed to do nearly everything else in the last twenty minutes, he fell into April's bedroom with a thud. "Ow," he whimpered. The bedroom was dark – maybe April was already asleep, it was well past ten pm - and Donnie thought to himself that he may as well lie there until he had the strength to get up.

But of course, April O'Neil had other ideas.

"What the hell are you doing in my room, you creepy pervert?" the redhead exclaimed from the side.

Donnie's eyes widened and he fought to stand, but it was no use. "No, no, it's not what you think -"

"You just busted through my window and landed in my room!" April shouted, menacing as anyone could be in heart-laden pajamas. D

onnie scooted back on the floor and tried to hold up one hand. "It's not like that -"

_Clink. _April's metal fan appeared in her fingers and she advanced on him menacingly. "You're going to wish I'd called the police when I'm done with you, you weird-o peeping tom!"

"April, don't! Don't! It's -"

"Yah!" April tackled him with a vicious yell and pulled back her fan to strike.

Donnie slammed back against the floor and tossed up his hands in an effort to shield himself, his eyes squinted and his head turned away. "Don't, it's me! It's Donnie! APRIL, IT'S ME DONNIE!" The fan froze. April's brows furrowed. "Donnie who?" she questioned suspiciously.

"_Who do you think_?" he shrieked.

In a flash, April jumped off him and scrambled back, her blue eyes narrowed. She kept her fan in her hand, poised and glinting threateningly. Donnie exhaled sharply and rolled onto his side with a pained moan. He pushed at his legs and, with a great deal of effort, managed to use April's nearby desk to pull himself to a stand. He leaned on it heavily.

"This... What? This is some kind of Kraang trick," April growled.

Donnie swallowed tightly and shook his head at her, his fingers tight on the desk and his hip bearing down on it. "No..." he murmured, his expression crumbling. "It's not. It's really me." He dropped his head briefly, and the humiliation he'd felt in the lab came back to him in full force. A deep breath steadied him just a bit, his eyes lifting to hers once more. The only lighting in the room was a small lamp next to April's bed, and he shifted towards it, out of the shadows.

April's lips parted, his expression still wary and uncertain as Donnie maneuvered into view.

When his eyes met hers, something in April's gaze shifted. He saw her glance down, first at the robe and then back up to his neck. Carefully, she stepped forward, her fan dropping down to the desk. Donnie watched, perplexed until he caught her eyes moving again. She was looking at something around his neck. Slowly, her fingers drifted up and touched the purple mask that lay loose against his collarbone. Donnie kept silent as April gingerly lifted it and moved the fabric over his ears and into his hair. When April met his eyes again, now framed in purple, she jumped away with a gasp and pressed a hand to her mouth.

"It really is you," she whispered.

* * *

April O'Neil had been through a great many shocks in her young life.

Now, she was beginning to wonder if the day would ever come when she stopped being so surprised by them. Obviously, today was not that day. Because standing in front of her, frowning and injured, was the human version of her best friend. Who had, for the last sixteen years, been a turtle.

She wanted to study him, to seek out the real dimensions of this strange young man with Donnie's voice and eyes, but she could see the poor guy was ready to collapse and this wasn't the time for her scrutiny. This was Donnie, she told herself firmly. And he needed her help.

Even if she was totally _freaking_ _out_. "What happened?" the startled question left her, and she cursed herself. He was in no condition to be explaining anything to her right now.

The human – _Donnie –_ sighed softly and shook his head once more. "I was... I was working with the retro-mutagen and it exploded," he looked away from her, eyes falling on the carpet. "I don't know exactly what happened, but when I woke up, I was like..." he twisted a hand in front of his face. " … this." He sounded miserable. April stepped forward and touched his hand gently.

"Okay, well, that's all I need to know for right now. Come here," she drew up her computer chair for him and Donnie all but fell into it, his head dropping to his chest. April raised a hand to his face, her fingers jumping curiously at the intimate contact with what felt like a total stranger.

"Why are you so bruised up?" she asked, dragging the little lamp closer to inspect his wounds. He was cut and marked all over. The gaping neckline of the robe displayed a dozen or more angry red marks.

Donnie grunted. "Body doesn't work right. I think I hit every solid object between here and Fifth Street." He rolled a shoulder and winced. "Seriously, I was like Donnie – _The_ _Pinball_ – Hamato."

April offered him a small smile and moved away. "I'll go get a First Aid kit. Then you can rest, okay?"

Donnie nodded and April hurried into the bathroom, glad that her father and aunt – both of whom she lived with now – slept like the dead. She fished around for the kit and came back to her room, pausing in the doorway. She couldn't help it. She had to allow herself this teeny moment to observe him.

Donnie sat in the computer chair, his body all but melted against it. His fingers clenched and loosened absently on the chair arms, twitching ever so often. His gaze was distant, staring at a window and his lips were pursed in a frown. The robe covered much of his legs and stomach, but from what she could tell – and the robe gave a decent view of his upper torso – he was built almost identically to his turtle self: tall, lean and fit. His voice was much the same and his eyes, although the shape had changed, were the exact shade as before. Perhaps the most curious change was his hair – jet black, unruly and just long enough to reach his ears.

As April watched, Donnie winced and reached up a hand to touch his head. When his fingers brushed the thick black hair, he jerked back in alarm. April's heart broke at his bewildered and uncertain expression. He looked close to tears.

She decided in that moment that she wouldn't allow him to be upset or afraid anymore, and she bounced into the room with a gentle smile. "Hey you," she said, drawing his pained gaze up to her. She sat on the edge of her bed and reached forward, tugging the rolling chair closer. Their knees brushed, and she shifted her own so that she could lean close to him.

"Just let me clean up some of these cuts. I think they may still have glass in them," she said, hoping her quiet voice would soothe him. It seemed to work – or maybe he was just finally succumbing to exhaustion – because he relaxed just a bit. April dabbed at the cuts with a cloth, putting some disinfectant on a few and soothing creams on others. She pulled out a pair of small tweezers and warned him softly before plucking out a few pieces of glass. He barely winced, sometimes not even watching, but instead turning his head away and staring up at the ceiling.

"So..." April didn't miss Donnie's wince when she spoke. "... Your brothers..?"

"They don't know," he replied tiredly, his eyes on April's bedspread. "I heard them at the door, but... I ran away. I didn't want to face them."

April frowned and set aside her tweezers. "Why not?"

Donnie sighed and looked back at her. "Because what could they say? What could they do? How could I even begin to explain this to them?"

April huffed. "Well, I don't know, Donnie. But you're going to have to tell them."

"I know," he admitted woefully. His fingers curled in the lap of his robe. "I just – I couldn't deal with it right then. I don't know why. I just couldn't."

April chewed on her lip and put her kit away. He was well enough for now. "I guess that's understandable." She paused and then said in her gentlest voice, "You look exhausted, Donnie. You need to rest." She pulled away from him and stood. "Here, I'll text the guys and say you're just hanging out with me tonight. We'll go to the lair in the morning and you can get everything in order before the guys wake up. Then you can tell them."

She began to type out a text, but Donnie's yelp stopped her.

"You're going to tell them I'm staying here _all_ _night_? Are you crazy?" he exclaimed, his eyes wide with alarm. "They'll tell Master Splinter!"

April raised a brow. "Isn't that the point? You guys always stay out all night."

"Uh, no." Donnie shifted in the chair. "_We_ stay out all night, yeah, but you don't. Everyone knows you're supposed to be asleep right now. And if Master Splinter thinks I'm here, in your bedroom, all night, he is going to bust through that wall - " he pointed, " - like the Kool-Aid man and _cane_ _me_ to death right in front of you." He tossed up his arms. "You weren't there when he gave us the puberty talk, April! Respect For Women is right up there with honor and chopstick etiquette, okay? It's serious."

April bit back an amused grin. "Okay, I'll just tell the guys to cover for you, then! Let them draw their own dumb conclusions. We'll set the story straight tomorrow." She quickly typed out the text and hit Send before Donnie could protest further.

Eugh. As if his anxiety about tomorrow could have possibly gotten any. damn. worse.

* * *

They'd battled it out about the bed – April had insisted he take it, given his state of exhaustion, and he had flat out refused – but Donnie had eventually won. And that was how he woke up the next morning, tucked inside a sleeping bag on the floor right next to April's bed. One eye squinted open.

Oh, sewer apples.

This was real. Oh, this was so real and he was going to be in so much trouble for about a thousand and two different reasons. Donnie shifted, his body protesting loudly until he could look up at April's slowly revolving ceiling fan. Well, he couldn't lie. He'd pictured waking up in April's room plenty of times in his head, but never had it involved him stuffed into a sleeping bag on the floor, his body all messed up and his chest heavy with anxiety.

Lying on his back was weird, too.

Now that his mind had cleared and some of the panic had receded, Donnie took his time evaluating his situation. Okay, so this was the result of the retro-mutagen, which had blown to pieces right in front of his face when he'd added _that ingredient. _That much he understood. What he didn't understand was – well, anything else. Why it had reacted that way. Why it had made him look like this. What exactly it had done to his DNA. He had to get back to the lab to look. He couldn't let this state linger. He had things to do, for Newton's sake! This was a major, major setback. He was on a tough timetable as it was. Now he had to deal with this before he could even begin to think of how to change back Karai and the victims of New York City.

Donnie let his mind wander.

If he said he'd never imagined himself as a human, that would be a lie. He had, on several quiet, shameful occasions, wondered what it would be like. What he could be like. How he would feel or the things he would do. He could go to a university! Buy a home! Start a family! Win a Nobel price!

But never as he was. Never as a turtle. And even though he'd daydreamed about it often enough, he had never considered it a real possibility. And now that this had happened, no part of him celebrated. There was no sense of elation. There was dread, fear, guilt at taking up more time that could be devoted to finding the real retro-mutagen. He knew that what he had done could not help Karai. What he had done had been a mistake, and he didn't care to think about explaining it any further than he already had.

He would have to, though, he realized with a sinking feeling. Eventually.

A shuffling noise sounded outside April's door and he picked up on the voice of Kirby O'Neil. He squeaked and sat up quickly, batting at April's side in her bed. "April! Your dad!" he whispered, dropping back down into the sleeping bag as the redhead quickly jumped out of bed and gasped. "Hurry, hide!"

"What, why?" he hissed.

"Because I don't want to explain some dude sleeping in my room!" she whispered harshly. Donnie let out a muffled yell as April dropped to her knees and mummified him into the sleeping bag, rolling him right under her bed. He came to a burrito-like stop right as April's bedroom door opened.

"Oh, hey dad!"

"Hey sweetie," Kirby paused, as if his Dad instincts were sounding off somewhere in his head. "Your Aunt and I are going to go get some breakfast. You want to come?"

"Oh, nah.. I'm not that hungry. You two go on without me," April tipped back and forth on the heels of her feet. Donnie rolled his eyes. Why was she such a bad liar? Geez. Still, Kirby bought it – _and maybe that's why_, Donnie thought wryly - and left her alone. He heard April exhale before she kneeled down again and tugged him out from under the bed.

"Thanks for the warning," he groused, rubbing his head and disentangling himself from the bag with a grunt.

April rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry, it was a panic move!" She offered him a hand and he took it, pulling himself into a standing position that was only a little steadier than the day before. His legs felt like jelly. April stepped aside and glanced out of the window. "Okay, they're gone." She tapped her chin. "You should take a shower and change into some better clothes. I think I have something you can wear."

Donnie made a face. "I'm not wearing your clothes," he muttered.

"I'm not giving you my clothes," April shot him an annoyed look. "My older cousin has some clothes here you can wear." A towel hit his chest. "I'll find the clothes, go take a shower." Donnie grimaced and then stumbled away, eventually finding a nice, steady gait. April paused near the door with him. "Don't forget to wash your hair," she tapped his temple. "Use the shampoo. It's in the blue bottle."

"I can still read," Donnie dead-panned.

April thumped his arm and he yelped.

"Ow!"

"Now go!"

"Alright, alright..."

A few minutes later, Donnie stepped into the shower and the warm water hit him like a lightning bolt. He screeched and nearly fell over – as if he needed one more embarrassing experience to remember all of this by – but he managed to stay in the stall. A few adjustments to the temperature and he slowly relaxed. Pouring liquid soap over his hands and sniffing curiously at it, he began to rub down his strange body. "It's so.. squishy," Donnie murmured, poking himself in the stomach. He peered down at his legs and made a face at the hair there. Not much, but still. Weird.

He didn't have much other body hair to speak of, which was a blessing, considering he had no idea how to shave any of it. Still, washing all the hair on his head was a hassle if he'd ever had one. What an insane thing to have to deal with, he thought with a hint of annoyance. He'd always thought April's fiery red hair was the most beautiful thing ever. Now he understood what she kept it in a ponytail most of the time. He tried to fist his back into a ponytail, but it wasn't long enough. When it was nice and damp, he shoved it back from his face and let it stick up in every different direction.

When he realized that the shampoo made it stand straight-up in a mohawk, he found himself occupied until the water ran cold.

"Donnie?" April was at the door.

"I'm – I'm here!" he jumped beneath the spray again, his hands rushing the soap out of his hair under a wave of freezing water. The water turned off with a gurgle and Donnie stepped out into his towel.

"Your clothes are just outside the door," April called out to him. Her footsteps led her away, but Donnie still waited a few minutes before sneaking a hand out of the door and snatching the fabric there.

Inside the bathroom, he carefully looked over the clothing. April had been thoughtful enough to find him track-pants (no buttoning required), which he appreciated. They were just a bit too long, but nothing he couldn't deal with. He realized belatedly that he'd put on the pants before the underwear, though, which made him snort in annoyance before taking the damn things off again. His pads and hand-wraps had fallen away and now dangled at his wrists and ankles, and so he discarded them. No use in trying to adjust them right now. Finally settled, he reached for the simple gray t-shirt and pulled it over his head.

"There," he muttered, satisfied. Mission accomplished.

* * *

April had just finished dressing herself when Donnie reappeared, his hair wet and skin still warm from the shower. Her lips quirked, particularly when he offered her a lopsided smile that was so painfully familiar. His expressions hadn't changed at all, and April found herself wildly grateful for it.

"Everything work out?"

"Yeah, I think so." Donnie frowned and his hand tugged at the front of the shirt. "Something's itching me." He peeked inside of it and lifted the tag.

April giggled. "That goes in the back," she said. A flush jumped up her neck and into her cheeks when Donnie reached over his head, yanking the shirt off to turn it around.

_Oh my god, _April thought in a borderline hysterical voice. She barely contained a squeak as she turned away. Donnie was plenty muscled as a turtle, but most of it was hidden by his shell and plastron. As a human? Not so much. And what was even worse, he seemed totally oblivious. He pulled the shirt back on after a tussle with the armholes, and April only turned around again when it was firmly in place. She cleared her throat a bit.

"Better?"

"Uh, not really." Donnie frowned and swatted at the back of his shirt. "I don't like clothes."

"Well, too bad." April silently rejoiced in her now normal speaking voice. "You have to wear them. And shoes." Donnie groaned loudly and dragged his hands down his face. He kept his fingers lined up in pairs, April noticed with a keen interest. As if he only had three. Fascinating.

"Can't I just go barefoot? I did on the way here."

"No way, that's gross." April tossed him a pair of sneakers. Donnie dropped back heavily onto the bed and fumbled with the socks, yanking them on with no small amount of grumbling. However, when it came to the shoes, he paused. "Do you... know how to tie shoes?" April asked curiously.

Donnie flushed. "Well, yeah... It's just -" he held up his hands. His fingers still moved in uncoordinated, jerky movements. "My hands don't work right," his tone dropped and the miserly look from last night crossed his features once more. "Man, April... how am I going to work like this?"

April frowned and crossed the room, slipping into a low crouch in front of him. She touched a hand to his knee. "You will. And I'll help you. We'll figure this out, Donnie." She flashed him a soft, hopeful smile. He returned it mildly, his eyes moving about apprehensively. April squeezed his knee and stood, reaching over for the shoe. With steady, helpful motions, she guided his fingers through the tying and then let him try the other by himself. When he completed it, Donnie allowed himself a real smile.

"One small step..." he murmured with a shrug, his lips quirked.

April smiled, "That's the spirit."

* * *

When Donnie stepped out onto April's street, he flinched.

It was a combination of things. The bright sunlight, so unlike the dusky orange he was used to glimpsing. The parade of people moving up and down the sidewalks in heavy droves. The racket from the daytime traffic, the calls of the newspaper boys and sandwich-board guys. He stared incredulously, unable to process the very notion that he was outside and … no one cared.

People side-stepped him. Children babbled as they walked by, paying him no mind. No one screamed. No one ran. No one did... anything.

Donnie glanced up at April's touch to his shoulder and he knew, from her smile, that she understood his amazement. Her hand slipped around his upper-arm and tugged on it gently. "Come on. We'll take our time walking to the lair... it's nice out." Donnie smiled just a bit and lifted his eyes to the street, drinking in the sights as they walked, arm in arm. Occasionally, he reached out and brushed his fingers over something – a sign, a mailbox, a park bench.

When he saw April shoot him an inquisitive glance, he explained to her that things felt different under his fingers. The textures were strange.

His stomach rumbled. "You want some breakfast?" April asked, moving him over to a street vendor. Donnie watched, stunned, as the vendor gave the two of them a happy smile and gestured to his wares. He tentatively reached out and pointed to a bagel, which was promptly wrapped up and handed to him. April got one too, and then they were off again, each munching on their foods.

"This is crazy," Donnie whispered. April's grip on his arm tightened and her other arm reached up to pat him.

"Just enjoy your bagel, D."

* * *

Author's Note: Enjoy the fluff while you can, guys. It will get dark around here in due time...


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: I'm a dork. So sue me. I waited four whole days, okay? I even did some real world stuff today. So there.

Thanks for the reviews, faves and follows! I am so pleased. :3

* * *

By the time they reached the lair, Donnie was all nerves and no gumption. Why was he nervous, anyway? Maybe he was just embarrassed. What if his brothers didn't believe it was really him? What if they totally flipped? Donnie and April found the living area vacant, most of the lights shut off. His brothers and Master Splinter would be asleep right now, having only turned in a few hours before. Donnie breathed out a sigh of relief and glanced at April.

"We don't have to wake them yet. Let's look around the lab first, see if I can't figure out just what in the name of Newton I did to my equipment."

April nodded in agreement, but then tossed a nod at the kitchen. "I'm going to get something to drink. I'll be there in a minute, kay?"

Donnie left her behind and headed into the lab, his strange face twisting into a grimace when he saw the wreckage. His brothers must have come through here looking for him, but of course, they'd done nothing to help the mess. Carefully, Donnie waded through the shards of broken glass and scald marks on the floor, a bin of tools overturned in a scatter and a shelf toppled onto its side. Secretly glad April had convinced him to wear shoes, he tread over to his desk and examined his main computer. At least THAT was in tact. He wouldn't have to scrap the thing and save the hard drive, because God only knew he already had enough on his plate and -

"Who the hell are you?"

Donnie tensed, whipping around just seconds before a green-eyed mutant started marching in his direction, sai in hand. "Okay," he started, careful to keep his voice even. "So I know this looks weird..."

And yet Raphael didn't wait for an explanation of this stranger in the lair (April nowhere to be found). Instead, he jumped straight at him, ready perhaps not to stab him, but definitely to incapacitate the stunned "human." Donnie instinctively leaped back and snatched the first thing his fingers touched – a broom. With a quick whirl, he blocked Raphael's attack with the long handle. The force of the blow rocked Donnie into the cold wall, Raphael's weight bearing down on him with his sai.

His brother's green eyes widened at the quick defense, and for a moment, they both hesitated.

"Geez, get off me, Raph!" Donnie exclaimed, and with that, he brought up a foot and kicked Raphael hard in the plastron. The two of them separated with a thud when Raphael crashed into one of the tables , his sai dropping to the floor. He stared, bewildered. And then -

"_Donnie_?"

Just then, April rushed into the room, her eyes wide with alarm. "I heard the noise, what – Oh, god. Raphael!" She hurried to Donnie's side as he dropped the broomstick to the floor, huffing a little and shooting a glare Raphael's way.

"April!" Raphael turned to face her. "What's goin' on?"

April inhaled deeply and dragged a hand down her face. "Raph... You might as well get the others." She raised a brow at Donnie, who could only roll his eyes. "We … need to talk."

* * *

To say that the Hamato family had never had a more uncomfortable, awkward exchange was an understatement, with only the aforementioned "puberty talk" even coming close.

Leonardo, Michelangelo, Raphael and Master Splinter all sat, in various stages of awe, sleepiness and uncertainty, only shortly replying to Donnie's stunted explanation of the chain of events that led them all here. It bothered Donnie to realize that they were all seated away from him, clustered together on the opposite side of the coffee table, while he and April – the two seemingly normal teenagers – sat on pulled up chairs across from them.

He turned his awkward fingers between his knees, his elbows hunched over and balanced on the top of his thighs. So far, his brothers had said very little. Finally, it was Leonardo who spoke. He seemed cautious and guarded, though that wasn't unusual these days. There was something else there, though. Something Donnie wasn't sure he was ready to deal with yet.

Hope.

"So this was the retro-mutagen?" he asked, his eyes scanning over Donnie's changed form.

Donnie nodded. "Yeah, but... I mean, it was different than before. April's blood wasn't working with the samples I had, not like before when I changed her father back. The mutagen I was experimenting with when I had my accident came from Stockman's lab the day Karai was mutated. It was just a tiny bit I managed to steal away before the entire thing collapsed." He grimaced. "I think Stockman must have done something to it, something that changed the way it reacts to certain chemicals."

Silence fell again and then the torrent of questions exploded from his family.

"So do you think this will work for Karai?" Leonardo asked, his eyes almost begging.

"Why did you run, Donatello?" asked Splinter. "You should have come to me immediately."

"Donnie, how soon can you get a working sample?"

"Where'd you get the chump clothes? You look like Casey."

"_Can I touch your hair_?"

"Donatello, you must understand that certain measures must be taken -"

"Why are you even pretending like this was an accident?" Raphael sneered. His expression was even more antagonistic than usual, his mouth set in a tight scowl. He seemed borderline hostile about the whole thing, and Donnie's mind skipped over the never ending list of questions and straight to hateful tone so unique to Raphael.

"Pretending?" Donnie shifted to face him, eyes narrowed. "Why would I do this on _purpose_, Raph?"

Raphael sat up straighter in his chair, and if anything, his expression grew more belligerent. "You really gonna make me say it? Right in front of her?"

Donnie's chest burned with rage, and perhaps it was the stress of the last 24 hours, but something about it felt new and _sincere. _Like something that would linger and fester in a way it never had before. Next to him, April shifted uncomfortably, her eyes turned away. As Donnie took his time mulling over his scathing responses, he noticed Mikey next to him, rocking back and forth and humming with the excruciating effort it to him not to speak. He even had his hands clamped over his mouth. His face was turning purple, so Donnie turned away from Raphael and growled softly to his brother, "_What_, Mikey?"

"Where's your tail?!" the youngest turtle blurted out.

Across from him, the other turtles groaned and covered their faces. Donnie took in a deeply aggrieved sigh before grinding out, "I don't … _have a tail_ anymore..."

Michelangelo's face shifted into wide-eyed surprise before he nudged Leonardo. "Whoa... awk-ward," he whispered very loudly.

April leaned forward a bit in her chair. "Should I even...?"

"No!" the others chorused.

"Oookay then," she clasped her fingers on her kneecaps and resumed her silence.

Donnie chose that moment to jump up and toss out an arm vehemently. "Okay, you know what? I'm tired of this. I'm tired of all of it, okay? Look, no matter what _some _of you might think - " he shot a venomous glare at Raphael, "I did not do this on purpose. It was an accident. It is horrible. I feel strange and useless and like I don't know how to use my own body right now and, to be honest, I am FREAKING out!"

The others backed away at the volume of his voice.

"So all of you can just take your questions and your selfish concerns and keep them to yourself, okay? Because not a single one of you has taken even a second to ask me how I feel, or if I'm okay, or whatever! And you know what?" He dropped a hand down the length of his body, his eyes wide. "I'm not okay! I mean, look at me! I'm afraid!" He took in a deep breath, and it sounded as shaky and rattled as he felt. Tears threatened the corner of his eyes, but he refused to let them go in front of April. Donnie's shoulders went slack under the gray t-shirt and he shook his head.

"I'll be in my lab," he muttered, a disappointed and solitary cadence he'd heard a thousand times before. He pushed past his family and disappeared behind his lab doors. The rest of the Hamatos, as well as April, sat without speaking for a few minutes.

"Dudes," Mikey spoke up. "We were jerks."

Next to him, Leonardo nodded. He frowned deeply and sighed, one of his hands dropping to Mikey's shoulder. "You're right. Come on, guys." The two of them stood, but Raphael hesitated, his arms firmly planted over his chest. He glanced just once at April, something peculiar flashing in his eyes before he stood and joined them.

* * *

The bristles of the broom made soft scraping noises as it moved over the floor, gathering glass and pushing it aside. Donnie's solemn expression focused on the piles of refuse, because looking up into the rest of his lab was too overwhelming. Distantly, he heard the door to his lab open, and he figured it was April.

When Leonardo's voice sounded out instead, he glanced up and leaned some of his weight on the broom. He blinked, expressionless, as his brothers all shuffled inside and shut the door. "Hey bro," Leo stepped forward. "Need some help?"

Donnie raised an eyebrow at him and then shrugged, unwilling to offer such a quick consolation. He continued his work, and he heard his brothers moving around him. Raphael righted the shelf and fixed the top bolts. Mikey gathered up the fallen books and carefully put them back in a neat pile on Donnie's desk. Leonardo took up a mop and cleaned any of the remaining liquid, some spots still sticky from the night before. When they were all finished, Donnie fell heavily into his desk chair and turned a stare to his blank computer screen.

His brothers moved silently around him. Mikey, always the first to hug it out, leaned against the chair arm and looped an arm around Donnie's shoulders. "Hey dude," he said in his sincerest tones. "Sorry we kinda freaked and said dumb stuff before. And sorry I mentioned your tail right in front of April." He paused. "I'm sure you have a nice human tail or whatever they have."

"Thanks," Donnie glanced up at him, his tone mildly amused. "Remind me to give you that anatomy lesson for the fiftieth time later, okay?"

Leonardo took a seat in another chair in front of Donnie. "_Are_ you okay?" he asked, and the genuine concern in his tone melted away some of Donnie's anger.

He nodded. "I guess, I mean. I don't have any symptoms I can tell just yet. I just need to get back to work and start studying my own blood. I have to figure out how to get back to normal. There's no way I can go on like this." He sighed and raked a hand through the peculiar hair. "I just feel... I don't know. Like, remember when we had to trade weapons?" The others nodded, even Raphael, who now hovered nearby.

"Well, it feels kinda like that. Like, you know what you should do. The instinct is still there. You know how to fight, you know how these weapons are supposed to work, right? But when you try, everything feels stilted and wrong. It doesn't fit." Leo frowned, his eyes dropping and Donnie glanced at his human hands. "Nothing fits like this. I picked up my bo staff before, and even that isn't the same. What if you guys need me to fight while I'm still like this? I'll be worthless. I could get you guys hurt." Donnie glanced up at his equipment. "Besides, I need to figure out a real retro-mutagen, not whatever blew me up before."

He met Leo's gaze, his solitary leader of a brother. The weight he carried was so much more obvious these days, like a physical burden hanging around his neck. Leo had never been the loudest or most rambunctious of the four, but he'd always had a sense of humor, a mirth that brimmed under the face of an earnest student and ninjutsu disciple.

Now, Donnie couldn't remember the last time he'd heard Leonardo's laugh.

"Leo, I don't think what I made would help Karai. I mean," he looked to his brothers. "I hate to point out the obvious, but I was _never _human. The retro-mutagen is supposed to reverse certain chemical reactions, to restore DNA to its original sequence. That's not what happened to me." At Leo's understanding nod, Donnie felt a burst of determination. "But no matter what, Leo, I will figure it out. I'll combine that research with my efforts to make myself normal again, and one day soon, I'll be a turtle and Karai will be a human. Exactly as it's meant to be." He glanced at Raphael out of the corner of his eye. "Exactly as I want it to be."

And it was true, and maybe it was only because this was all so new and frightening that he didn't dare entertain the possibility of exploring it further. Or maybe he was just under too much stress with his other projects, all of which toyed with the lives of people he cared about, to be concerned with his own potential for change.

Either way, he was resolute in his conviction. He would find the cure, both for Karai and himself, and he would right this. When he saw Leo give him a small, tentative smile, he returned it in kind. Mikey clapped him on the shoulder with such force, he jolted. "That sounds awesome, dude. And you know what? We should all help out."

Leo's smile grew, just a bit. "Mikey's right. We should help."

"Ooh, I know!" Mikey piped up. "Donnie, I'll do all your household chores around the lair! That way you have more time to work on science stuff."

Donnie chuckled. "Thanks, Mikey."

Raphael finally moved forward and spoke, and some semblance of affection had taken place in his expression again. It was his way of being contrite, this sort of drastic shift in attitude. "I'll work on the Shellraiser for ya. Change the oil and the tires and stuff, that way you ain't gotta worry about it." He even placed a hand on Donnie's shoulder, some part of his mouth quirked apologetically. The two brothers held each other's gazes for a moment before Donnie nodded. "Appreciate it," he managed.

Leo watched the exchange and then nodded, his eyes determined. "And I'll do your dojo chores, like shining the weapons and replacing the candles. We need you focused and rested. You're still a part of the team."

Donnie's lips parted in disbelief. "Even like this?"

"As long as you're still our brother," Mikey said with a grin, "...we'll always need you at our side."

* * *

Master Splinter waited a few hours before calling him into the dojo. When the screen door slid closed behind him, Donatello felt an unusual rush of nerves. Feet, now bare, padded across the aged rugs before bracing Donnie's uncertain body as he half-kneeled, half-fell to the floor. He sat in front of Master Splinter with a respectful bow, his head low. His father took a similar position in front of him. The familiar scents of the dojo, combined with the soft whistle from the streets overhead and the rustle from the tree created a blanket of calm that helped relax Donnie's body.

"My son," Splinter began, as he had done so many times before, his tone both gentle and authoritative. Donnie slowly opened his eyes and met his father's gaze. The rat beheld him for a long moment before speaking again. "I know your brothers apologized for their treatment of you upon your return. I, too, wish to apologize." Donnie blinked, uncertain if he'd ever heard Master Splinter apologize for anything. He remained silent.

"It is a terrible thing, to receive such a great shock, only to find that your support has disappeared along with your notions of comfort and familiarity." Splinter bowed his head. "And if any alive should know such a feeling, it is I." Donnie tilted his head and spoke, his tone quiet with awe.

"I didn't think about that... but you..."

"When I mutated from my human form, I felt betrayed by my own body. As if it had left me by choice, abandoning me in a shell of a creature I did not know. To one such as myself, who had long ago mastered the art of movement and physical manipulation, it was a painful loss." A soft gurgling sound alerted Donnie to a pot of tea, which Master Splinter poured skillfully into two cups. He pressed one at Donnie, who took it with the utmost care.

"At this point, I had lost my family. My homeland. And now, as I stared at a reflection I did not recognize, I grieved the loss of my very self." Splinter curled clawed fingers around the edge of the cup, his grip always delicate and purposeful. "It took the arrival of you, Donatello, and your brothers... for me to realize what a great fool I had been."

The rat's expressive eyes focused on Donnie's face, but not in the curious, invasive way his brothers' had. "For when I had you and your brothers to love and care for, I was no longer the mutant I had labeled myself as. I was Hamato Yoshi, the father. Hamato Yoshi, the teacher. Hamato Yoshi, the man."

He pressed the cup onto the table and folded his hands in the lap of his robe, not unlike the one Donnie had stolen and ruined.

"When I lived in Japan, I was considered a master of my art. But I had not truly earned that title, for I had made myself into a warrior of the physical plane only. I had adapted my body and even my mind, but I had forsaken the most essential part of ninjutsu – the spirit." Master Splinter's eyes glinted, deep and retrospective. "As I was before, and as I sit before you now, I am but a mere reflection of my spiritual self, and it is only that over which we have total control, my son."

Donnie inhaled quietly, his fingers twitching at his knees.

"But Master Splinter..."

"Donatello," Splinter tilted his head. "You have an amazing abundance of trust, and that is a powerful and useful virtue. However, it must be tempered with the skill of decision making, for you must know when and where to use it." He reached forward and, in a rare motion, touched the side of Donnie's head. "You, more than any other, place most of your faith in this." He tapped Donnie' temple. ".. rather than this." A clawed digit to the center of Donnie's chest.

Splinter moved away and dropped his hands once more.

"You are ninja, Donatello. That has not changed. You must take comfort in the fact that your spirit and character can both by altered, but only by _you, _my son. Not your body."

A slow, tender smile spread over Donnie's face, and for the first time since all of this happened, he felt a tingling sense of hope. He'd fix this. It wasn't going to destroy him. He'd make it, because he had his family. Sweeping into another low, respectful bow, Donnie stood with much more strength and stability than before.

"Thank you, Sensei."

* * *

The next few days were painfully awkward.

Donnie tried not to make a big deal of it, really, he did, but using his human body to do stuff was just plain weird. He'd finally managed to get used to his extra fingers (after nearly twenty minutes of chopsticks-mishaps), but he'd poked himself in the eye more than once just reaching for his face and Raphael and mentioned it every. single. day. While laughing.

Somehow, the floors of the lairs felt colder on his softer feet, and so being barefoot all the time was uncomfortable. Wearing shoes, however, was even more uncomfortable, so he'd taken to just wearing socks. Which were, as he found out in the kitchen one bleary morning, very slippery.

Raphael and Mikey had re-labeled the bandages as 'Donnie-Aids' in the meantime, which only incensed Donnie's irritation. At least they were helping him like they promised, even Raph, which left Donnie more time to work in the dojo.

And as it turned out, he needed a _lot _of work.

Okay, so he'd admit it. He'd always had trouble keeping up with Leo and Raph. Still, he was capable of keeping toe to toe with them in most circumstances, if not beating them outright, and he'd never felt so discouraged by the discrepancy between their skill levels that he'd ever just given up.

Today, he felt like giving up. "Again," came Splinter's stern voice.

Donnie heaved a sigh and pushed himself off the dojo floor. His bo staff aside, he squared his bare shoulders and settled a resolute gaze on Mikey, who kept glancing around like he wasn't sure what he was supposed to be doing. "Just go already, Mikey," Donnie groaned, which prompted his reluctant brother into action. One, two, three swipes and Mikey had him pinned. Again. For like the twentieth time.

In the corner, Raphael snickered. "Sorry bro," Mikey murmured, and somehow, his little brother's sincere apology made it worse.

Donnie moaned and sat up, his hands dragging down his face. "Master Splinter, how am I supposed to defeat anyone like this? I mean, my balance is totally different." He waved a hand pointedly over where his shell used to be, ".. my legs are smaller, my coordination is completely off and Mikey and the others outweigh me by like a hundred pounds!" It didn't matter that Donnie was 5'8 to Mikey's 5'0. As a human, he was much more lightweight.

"Remember what I told you, Donatello. Your skills and training remain. These things do not lie in your knowledge, but in your spirit. Your refusal to integrate them is what impedes you, not your body." He motioned to Mikey. "Again."

When Donnie was pinned, again and again and again, he couldn't help but overhear Raphael mutter to Leo. "Talk about the B Team. He's practically the D Team by now." Leo didn't respond, but Donnie felt the burning shame thrum so loudly in the room, it echoed off the walls. After Master Splinter finally dismissed them, he could only sit and examine his many injuries like a wounded animal waiting to be picked off by a scavenger. He jerked in surprise when Leo sat down in front of him.

"Hey," his brother said, hands on his knees. "You okay?"

Donnie twisted his lips in a cheap imitation of a smile. "Physically or mentally?"

Leo raised a brow ridge and Donnie gave up his half-hearted attempt at humor. "I heard what Raph said," he picked at a loose thread in the rug.

"Ignore Raph," Leo told him firmly. "He's just dealing with this in his own way."

"By being a jerk?"

"Well, yeah. He's really only got a handful of moods and most of them look the same," Leo pointed out with a small smirk.

Donnie grinned a little, examining his purple knuckles. "Between this and working in the lab, I'm getting beat up on all sides. I feel like Tiger Claw's scratching post."

Leo nodded. "That sounds rough," he admitted. "Look, I know more training is probably not what you want, but you know, it might be easier to make progress if you do some one-on-one. Without Raph or even Sensei watching you."

"What, you mean you training me?" Donnie asked, surprised.

"Sure," Leo watched him carefully. "It can be my other helpful thing for you. Plus..." he shrugged. "I wouldn't mind the extra activity myself. Training helps keep me focused... distracted." The last word left his mouth almost by accident, and Donnie could see tangible regret at having said it out loud.

Donnie felt the same sensation he'd had that night on the street, when Leo had been staring into the distance after Karai. Leo needed this just as much as he did, Donnie realized.

"That'd be great, bro."

* * *

When April O'Neil entered the lab and heard the _click click click _of Donnie's keyboard, it was easy to imagine that nothing had changed at all. However, the strangeness of the situation assaulted her once more when she saw – not a turtle, as she had before – but a human teenager sitting in Donnie's faithful chair.

He was sitting, she noticed, on the very edge of his seat as he had done in her room. She wondered if he realized that he could sit all the way back now, or if he maintained the position simply out of habit. "Hey Donnie," she slipped into another rolling chair at his side and smiled as Donnie snapped out of his stupor.

"Oh, hey." He smiled quickly and turned his face away, but he wasn't fast enough.

April's hand darted out and caught his shirt, yanking him in her direction. "Jesus, Donnie! What happened to you?" A quick glance down his bare arms made her jaw drop. How did she not notice these when she walked in? Donnie was a mosaic of purple and green bruises, the most pronounced of which darkened his chin on the right side. Donnie grimaced and carefully extracted himself from her grip.

"Training," he said dully. "Turns out I can be even worse a fighter than I was before. Crazy, huh?" Raphael's snickers echoed in his head, the comments even louder than all the rest. Even Mikey had given him a sympathetic, borderline amused look when he'd limped out of training. His brothers hadn't meant to hurt him, but they were simply not accustomed to pulling punches, so to speak.

April huffed from her chair. "You're a good fighter, Donnie. You'll get used to this."

"I hope not," he muttered as he grabbed a notebook and headed back to his chair next to April. She watched as he opened the notebook to a page of scribbles and placed it aside. When he put his hands on the keyboard and began to type, April barely swallowed a laugh.

"Donnie, why are you wearing your old gloves?"

He glanced up at her and then down at his hands, all the fingers of which were crammed into the modified gloves he'd used before. He smiled sheepishly and held them up, wiggling the three-fingered sections. "I don't know how to type any other way," he tilted his head. The soft, shy admission in Donnie's familiar voice twisted at April's heart.

This poor guy, she thought. Her friend was dealing with so much, and she'd barely been by in the last few days since he'd returned to the lair. It wasn't for lack of trying – she had school and her paranoid father to deal with, after all – but now she realized she'd have to make a more serious attempt. He needed her. Especially since he was still wearing the same outfit she'd put him in three days ago. He'd washed it, obviously, but it was still a little sad. "Isn't it awkward wearing those gloves, though?" she asked, eyeing the bulky tips.

Donnie nodded begrudgingly. "A little, but it takes way longer for me to type any other way."

April's eyes drifted over the gloves and then she reached over, touching his wrist. "Let me show you, then. How to type." She offered him an encouraging smile. "You're smart, Donnie. You'll catch on fast, I promise." Her touch at his wrist must have provoked him to stop typing, because he pulled his hands away and stared at her, his expression a mixture of bewilderment and anticipation. He let his hands drop into his lap and pushed away from the desk to give her room. April moved in front of him and, after a moment's thought, reached down to push both of his knees aside. Then she sat on the very edge of his chair, her back to him.

"Watch," she commanded, glancing over her shoulder. Luckily, Donnie was tall enough to see over her without any problem, even if he did seem a bit distracted already. April's lips quirked, but she willed herself not to smile again. Sometimes, it really was just fun to get a reaction out of him.

"Here are your home keys," she told him, placing her digits on the appropriate keys. "You always come back to these." She moved to a blanket text document and began to type. "Watch my fingers. My thumb moves to the space bar like this," she slowly, carefully typed out a sentence.

_My name is April O'Neil._

She peeked over her shoulder and saw Donnie's attentive gaze on her fingertips. "Your fingers will get to the point where they move to the right spot instinctively, just like when you type now. But coming back to these home keys is important, see?"

Donnie nodded, watching her type out an entire paragraph. His complex mind ticked over every motion. When April was done, she gestured to the keyboard. Donnie shot a quick glance at her before leaning forward, his arms sliding around hers to reach the keyboard. April's hand reached forward and slipped over his fingers, placing them on the selected keys. When they were settled, she moved his digits in tandem with hers.

_My name is Donatello._

The two exchanged a close smile, proud of their joint achievement. The interlocked hands moved again, this time on Donnie's meticulous bidding. He typed every letter with care, his movements much slower than hers, but no less accurate.

_April O'Neil is a great teacher. _

The redhead's lips parted in a grin, a small laugh bubbling inside of her. She turned her head to Donnie's again, the weight of her ponytail falling over his shoulder behind her. "See?" she prompted, her tone quiet. "Told you you'd get it."

Donnie shifted a timid gaze down at the floor. "If you tell me I can, April, I'll always believe you." Donnie's fingers drifted up just enough to catch the tips of April's and give them a gentle squeeze.

* * *

Author's Note: So much fluffy. And for anyone thinking that Raphael was a total asshole, he was. He is having a Difficult Time (emphasis) with Donnie's change because _reasons_. I still love him. And Donnie. Despite what I do to the poor thing.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: Back again! Thanks for all the reviews and lovely love. It brightens my day like you wouldn't believe. And don't worry, guys. We're getting to the Shredder action soon! I know it may seem like there's a lot of "filler" here, but this all has a point. Well, okay, MOST of it has a point. Some of it is just silly fluff.

Last, I had hoped to keep this as canon as possible up until the aforementioned episode (Vengeance is Mine), but I'm inserting a few "deleted scenes" in this chapter concerning Karai. So, you know. There's that.

* * *

Donnie frowned.

He'd been twirling his bo staff, tossing it from hand to hand for nearly half an hour, even though Leo wasn't due at the dojo for another five minutes. He just couldn't get the feel for it like this. It was strangely heartbreaking. As much as he had complained about his weapon to Master Splinter from time to time, he felt naked without it. Even more devastating was the feeling of _vulnerability_, which was already pervasive in the strange new shell he was forced to live in.

Not only he uncomfortable dealing with his own very familiar weapon, but he was having trouble sleeping. To be honest, Donnie never got great sleep. He had trouble nodding off most nights, and even then, he would occasionally jerk awake at random times, something profound just on the tip of his tongue. And then lost.

But lately it had been different. Maybe it was trying to sleep without his shell, which had been a comforting weight at his back, or perhaps it was his weird hair, which he had thought about shaving off but decided against when April had run her fingers through it teasingly.

Nope, definitely keeping it.

Either way, he'd tossed and turned all night, in the sort of toiling way he never had before. Maybe his body was still in shock. He knew he was.

"Donnie?"

A quick glance up at his brother made him stop his ministrations with the staff, which he tucked reluctantly into the newly adjusted holder between his bare shoulder-blades. God, he hated shirts. They were so itchy, it made him insane.

Leonardo entered, his blue eyes glancing just once around the dojo, ever alert. He gave Donnie a little smile and gestured. The two of them moved to the center of the dojo floor, Donnie rolling anxiously on his heels. He had to make this extra training time with Leo count, for lots of reasons, including the fact that any time spent here was time away from his lab. "Here, Don. Sit." Leonardo dropped into a cross-legged position.

Donnie eyed him curiously. "What're we doing?" Leo raised a brow ridge at him.

"We're going to start out with some meditation."

Donnie groaned. "Aw, Leo! I thought you were going to train me!" He plopped down to the floor ungracefully, reminding himself of Mikey.

As expected, Leo rolled his eyes. "This is training, Donnie."

"I remember how to meditate," Donnie grumbled, glaring to the side, his wrists dropping onto his knees. He flicked at a piece of fuzz. "Meditation is difficult for me, Leo."

"Why do you think that is?"

A great, heaved sigh. "Master Splinter says it's because I have trouble clearing my mind. He says I spend too much time thinking and not enough time feeling."

Leo tilted his head at him, his perfect posture making Donnie sit up a little straighter in response. "I didn't ask what Master Splinter thought it was. I asked you." Donnie raised a brow and then turned his dark red eyes skyward, and even then, he could feel himself reasoning his responses. He opened his mouth to speak, but Leo held up a hand to stop him. "Meditation is about thinking, Donnie. But you're not thinking. You're calculating."

Donnie closed his lips and grimaced, offering his brother a reluctant nod. "I don't know how to do anything else," he admitted with a wry smile. "Master Splinter -"

"Don't worry about Sensei right now," Leo interrupted in his cool, quiet tones, the sort he reserved specifically for the calm of the dojo. It held a strange echo without the grunts and cries of their brothers. "Position your body. Close your eyes."

The two brothers did so in unison, each taking a breath deep into their chests. Once darkness had overtaken their visions and the quiet crackle of nearby candles settled over them, Leo began to speak. Donnie fought to focus on his voice, and only on his voice, rather than his now constant discomfort and anxiety.

"One aspect of meditation that has been used throughout many different practices is that of the _koan_," Leo explained, his steady voice floating over the area between them. "Koan are used to express ideas that aren't subject to logic or measured by reason. They often deal with both duality and non-duality, evoking an enlightened consciousness while evaluating your knowledge of the things you think you know."

Donnie instantly tried to wrap his mind around this, but his efforts were so counter to Leo's very message that he simply could not. He huffed a little, his eyes still closed.

"Don't try so hard, Donnie." His brother knew him well. "Take what I'm telling you and internalize it in a different way, apart from the things you already believe."

Donnie took in another deep breath.

"If you want to gain insight using a _koan_, you have to think about the non-duality of a subject and its object. And you have to understand the role you play in seeking it out. Think about your reflection – not what you see today, or even what you would have seen a few weeks ago. Instead, think about your reflection as it sits in your mind. Do you see it?"

"Yes."

"What does it look like?"

"I... I don't know," Donnie murmured. "I see myself, there – my eyes, mostly. And I see the reflection of them in front of me."

"So you see both?"

"Yes."

"That means you're thinking in duality, which is the way we tend to see the world. Things come in pairs, pieces fitting together to form something larger. We think we understand the subjects we see or the objects we encounter, but we only see them as they correspond to other objects in life," Leo went on. "You see yourself and your reflection, because you associate them together. Disassociate them. Take your reflection and make it its own entity."

Another deep breath steadied Donnie's mind and he let it wander, prod curiously at the walls he'd placed in it to categorize the many areas he delved in. He pushed away from the confining corners of his mind, imagining a shapeless version of himself delving into dark corners like Peter Pan's lost shadow.

"Let it guide you. Find your new point of view, your spiritual source. If you evoke it, your reflection will sharpen. It will be you as you are, not as it stands in front of you."

The shadow of Donnie's mind poked around more, a soft frown flitting across his features as he felt it move further and further away from the cocoon of quantifiable knowledge and deeper into the less certain areas of his mind. It felt like an oddly slow climb, a confusing series of corners and tall walls until -

_Red. _

Donnie's body jerked, his shoulders tightening suddenly. Across from him, Leonardo was silent, his eyes still closed. In the labyrinth of his mind, the gray mist of Donnie's reflection scrambled away. The black and white world he'd trapped himself in flashed red once more, then black, and once more red before eventually snapped into a blinding white light that enveloped everything. In the realness of the dojo, heat burned up Donnie's legs and through his kneecaps, the same sort of fire working its way into the walls of his mind, growing brighter and hotter until the mist of Donnie's shadow was burned away and -

A strangled cry, one last brilliant streak of crimson jumping in front of his eyes. Donnie pitched forward, his chest heaving. Leo was up in an instant, crouched next to him.

"Donnie, what happened?" he exclaimed, his blue eyes worried. Donnie pushed himself away, the wild fear that Leo would catch the fire in his skin and turn to ash. He blinked dazedly, his chest still heaving, a real sweat dropping down his arms and neck. His insides felt like a rabid animal, frothing and clawing at the cavity of his chest. His fingers tightened, a new sort of anger twisting into his chest. Leonardo stared, his lips parted and his face uncertain. When Donnie looked up at him, the anger melted away as suddenly as it had come.

"I.." Donnie swallowed tightly. "I don't know. I saw..."

But when he locked gazes with his brother, he found he couldn't say it. He shook his head and sat back on his ankles, his hands curled tight into shaking fists at his sides. Leo made a move to come closer to him, but Donnie jumped up and stumbled away on unsteady legs.

"I'm fine," he murmured, his eyes darting around the room. "I'm... fine."

Leonardo could only watch as his brother hurried out of the dojo, closing the sliding door behind him without another word. His brows furrowed, he slowly dropped to his knees in the spot his brother had left. It felt strangely warm.

* * *

"_Do you ever miss Japan?"_

_She looked stunned at the question. It was the first time the lull in their fighting had ever extended long enough to invite real conversation. He couldn't even recall how they'd come across each other, even though at this point, it was starting to approach a nightly status and could hardly be passed off as accidental._

_Karai pursed her lips and shifted a thoughtful gaze at the sky. Her seemingly casual stance was accented by the silky turn of two ice-like blades in her hands. "Not really," she said after a long moment. Leonardo shifted his right katana, though he didn't sheathe it. He eased up the tension on his crouch, his eyes never leaving her. _

"_Really?" Leo leaned on one of his blades. _

"_You sound surprised," she noted with a smirk._

"_I am. Seems kinda weird to go to a completely new country and not miss your home at all," Leo pointed out. Nearby, the steady soundtrack of late night traffic drifted over them, buffeted by the warehouse walls that shaped their alleyway. Karai shrugged, a familiar scowl finding its way onto her features. _

"_I never really got to do much at home. It's not like I had a school to go to or a bunch of friends waiting for me," she rolled her eyes. Leonardo straightened from his crouch. "Really? Why didn't you do that stuff?" _

"_Why don't you?" _

"_Oh, you know. The schools around here are just breeding grounds for violence, now a days," Leo said wryly. "I also have a problem with standardized testing, but no one else at the city council meetings agrees with me." _

_Karai flashed him a quick grin. "You have a smart little mouth on you, Leonardo." _

"_I try," he returned her smirk. _

_When she disappeared into the shadows just a few moments later, Leonardo realized – with a belated sense of disappointment – that she hadn't answered his question._

* * *

Donnie eyed the two tubes, lifting one in each hand and eyeing them suspiciously in turn.

"Hmm.. I wonder if 'eenie meenie' is proper scientific reasoning," he muttered, wiggling the one in right hand. The color of the liquid was closer to purple, so hey, that was good enough for him. Hell, it wasn't like he was making very much progress anyway. He dumped it into the solution and then set the tubes aside. As he waited for the proper temperatures to adjust, he leaned against the table and slipped his fingers over the purple mask near his keyboard.

"Feeling nostalgic?" April teased from the doorway.

Donnie glanced up and a smile jumped onto his features. He shrugged, turning the mask over in his hands. "I want to wear it. I'm used to putting it on first thing in the morning. But it feels weird." He put the band over his eyes and held the tails behind his head. "It feels funny on my ears." He wrinkled his nose. April laughed and walked over, taking the mask from him and eyeing it.

"Well, try it like this," she offered, standing on her tiptoes and reaching behind Donnie's head. The nearness of her made him flush and avert his gaze, and he was concentrating so hard on not doing anything twitchy that he forgot to enjoy the feeling of her fingers in his hair. April brought the fabric up to his forehead, rather than his eyes, and turned it sideways to that the holes were hidden. She tied it around the back of his head and shifted a few hairs.

"There," she said, grinning. "Now you look like a ninja again."

"Hooray," he said tonelessly, even as his grin matched hers. He brushed his hand over the tails in the back. "That's not bad, I guess." He did feel better, even though it was such a small and silly thing. It was nice to have the familiar fabric with him again, even if it wasn't exactly the same. He turned back to his table, briefly reaching up to stifle a yawn. Eugh. He was going to end up drooling on his microscope if he didn't eventually get some sleep. Whatever was keeping him up at night, it had only gotten worse since yesterday's meditation with Leo.

"Hey Donnie," April said lightly from his side.

"Hm?"

"Didn't you say earlier that there was something different about the retro-mutagen formula you used during your accident?"

Donnie glanced quickly at her and then set to work, busying his hands on the table. "Uh, well." He cleared his throat. Why was he such an _outrageously_ bad liar? "Yeah, I used a few new things."

"Such as?"

"I don't know, April. Stuff!" Donnie edged around her, carefully avoiding her gaze. "Stuff I got from Stockman's lab right before it collapsed. Like the mutagen used on Karai, for example."

"Mmhm," April purposefully stepped in his way, her freckled face poised in that determined expression that usually meant she was about say something snarky, pointed and usually totally right. "So I'm assuming it was something you probably shouldn't have been using, then."

"What makes you say that?" Donnie asked indignantly. "Am I known for being a shady mad scientist?" It was meant to sound sarcastic, but now he was genuinely worried. He instantly envisioned himself in a Frankenstein-esque lab, storm raging overhead and a hunch-backed assistant (that looked suspiciously like Mikey) waddling after him, cackling all the while. It was an unpleasant image.

"More like, I know you were getting really desperate and you'd do anything to help your brothers," the redhead pointed out, taking a seat on a stool next to his table. Donnie rolled his eyes at her, his most daring act of defiance in nearly a week.

"I don't do crazy stuff," he muttered.

"So what was it? I know you didn't use something without having studied it first," April pressed. Donnie sighed and turned to face her, his hands full of chemicals. He wasn't sure why. Maybe he thought if April saw him carrying several things at once, she'd think he was busy enough to leave alone. Alas, April was too smart for his wild scheme.

"I just grabbed some DNA, that's all."

"DNA?" April repeated skeptically. "DNA of what?"

"Just a human," Donnie made a face at her. "I'm not dumb, April." A confident statement he privately re-evaluated when April's blue eyes turned suspicious. She slipped off the seat and approached him, her eyes scanning him meticulously. She knew how to make him crack, oh god.

Donnie practically flew across the lab, more bottles appearing in his arms. "Super busy, April. Can we continue this later?"

"So you got this from Stockman's lab, huh?" April folded her arms. "And why, dare I ask, did you use some random human DNA in your retro-mutagen?"

Donnie dropped the bottles a little more roughly than necessary. "Oh, I don't know. _Science_?" He wiggled his fingers at her.

"Watch it, Sass-a-tello," April growled, and suddenly, she was directly in his line of vision. She was watching him, waiting for him to splinter and break and tell her everything. Well, he wouldn't. Not even for April. He wouldn't do it! He was nearly a grown tu – man, and he wouldn't crack under pressure. Not anymore!

Donnie cleared his throat very politely and stepped around her. "Why are you even asking?"

"I don't know," April admitted, her brows furrowed. "It's just – You look... Japanese."

Donnie glanced himself in a reflective surface, as if he hadn't a thousand times before. That day. "Huh." He looked back down at his beakers, his eyes now covered by oversized goggles. "Luck of the draw, I guess." Another odd throat-clearing, a twitchy shake of his shoulders. He nearly shrieked when April yanked him back, her blue eyes blazing.

"Donatello, tell me what you know right now!"

"I won't!"

"Donnie!"

"Okay, fine!" Donnie jerked back and yanked off his goggles, ruffling his hair in the process. "It was Master Splinter's DNA!"

The room echoed. Donnie winced, the goggles dropping to the side with a quiet thunk. April stared, so astounded he had to turn away. He sat heavily in his computer chair, his eyes moving to the various lab results he had tacked up on his screen.

"You did _what_? What the hell, Donnie!" April's eyes widened, her expression a mixture of horror and disbelief. "You could have turned yourself into a freaky... rat-turtle hybrid thing! What were you thinking?"

"Look," Donnie whirled in his chair to face her. "I got the blood from a small injury after the fight when Karai got mutated and I saved it, thinking I might need it if he ever gets hurt in the future. When I was going through ideas for my formula, it occurred to me that Sensei was, unlike us, a human before he was mutated. I thought if I used it in the formula, I might be able to retrace my steps through the mutagen back to the human components!" His head dropped back with a thud. "I didn't know it was going to blow up on me!"

April took a seat once more next to him. "Does Splinter know?"

"No way," Donnie straightened. "No one does. And I don't want them to know. I feel like Master Splinter would see it as invasive and just weird."

April raised a brow. "It is invasive and weird, Donnie. I mean, not like, the weirdest thing you've ever done by far -" Donnie narrowed his eyes, a little offended. "But still weird," she finished.

"Yeah, well." Donnie turned back to his computer. "Nothing we can do about it now." He huffed, his fingers clicking loudly on the keys of his keyboard. He rubbed at his eyes blearily, his mind wired. The lights felt like they were blinking even when they weren't, and something about his skin felt oddly clammy. He groaned and rubbed absently at his lower arms, plucking at the sleeve of the grey t-shirt he had donned once more.

April watched him for a long moment, blissfully silent, her judgment briefly set aside in lieu of her completely unabashed inspection of him. Donnie glanced at her, a questioning eyebrow raised. "When was the last time you took a break?" she asked finally.

Donnie breathed in deeply and glanced at a clock. "Uhhhh," not one of his more intelligent responses. He fought to think. "Break-o-clock?" he tried with a forced smile.

"Alright, smart guy, that's enough of you." A tiny hand, lightning quick, darted out and caught Donnie's ear before he could even react. In seconds, April was dragging him out of the lab, his entire body hunched over to accommodate her shorter reach.

"Ahh, April!"

"Ooh, see what I can do now? This is fun," she grinned.

* * *

After living in fluorescent lighting for so many years, the blinding rays of the midday sun were almost unbearable. Donatello nearly fell into traffic while his eyes still adjusted until April took some pity on him and led him around with a linked arm. The city streets were busy, as always, with clusters of people crowding the sidewalks and lines of cars honking and raging parallel to the sidewalk. Once Donnie was comfortable with his senses once more, he observed the microcosm of chaos with a vaguely amused, abundantly interested gaze.

"We're going to do something fun," April told him firmly, in her no-nonsense voice that Donnie secretly really liked.

He glanced down at her, worry still nagging at him. "I should be working, April," he reminded her gently. "As much as I want to do this stuff..."

"You weren't accomplishing anything at this point, Donnie. Not because you can't," she caught the look on his face and went on quickly. "... but because you're overworking yourself. Besides, there's some stuff you need to do." She paused in front of a store and glanced up at the sign.

Donnie groaned. "April, if you dragged me all the way out here to go clothes shopping, I swear I will -"

A single raised lady-brow stopped him in his tracks.

" … gladly... do as I'm told," he finished weakly, pleased a thousand times over that his brothers were not around to hear this.

April smirked at him and patted his shoulder sympathetically. "Sorry, D. But you need at least a couple of shirts and pants. After you get that, I swear, I have something awesome planned." Donnie glanced down at her again, his lips twitching at a smile. What was he complaining about? A whole day with April, outside the lair, in the street like a normal... human... person.

"Everything with you is awesome," he told her earnestly. When color danced into April's cheeks at his compliment, he decided this was definitely, definitely worth it.

* * *

"Those look wildly uncomfortable," Donnie told her flatly. April pressed the denim into his hands. "Just try them on! Jeans get more comfortable as you wear them."

"Which is why you wear shorts and tights every day, right?" Pinch. "Ow!"

"And here, look." She held up a polo shirt. "Purple!" A proud grin lifted her freckled cheeks. Donnie took the polo from her, but he had to stop for her series of instructions on the clothing. "Oh, and don't forget, you have to wear the white shirt I gave you under the purple one."

"What?" Donnie exclaimed. "I hate having to wear one shirt, now I have to wear two?"

A passing couple gave them both an odd look before moving on. April nodded firmly, "Yes, Donnie. Both."

"Well, that just seems wasteful."

"Go, Donnie!"

* * *

When he emerged a few minutes later, dressed in the purple polo and a pair of dark jeans, he decided that it was worth the _agonizing _discomfort, if only for the look of surprise and delight on April's face.

* * *

"How much further? I feel like you're leading me into a trap," Donnie protested, his feet stumbling over the edge of a sidewalk. April was covering his eyes with her hands, but she wasn't really tall enough to reach him properly, and he was walking almost crab-like into unknown territory.

"Okay, we're here. Open your eyes."

Donnie's dark-eyed gaze popped up and then drifted up, locking on the elaborate sign almost immediately. "The Museum of Natural History," he murmured in awe, his eyes wide. All around them, people of all ages filtered through the interest with varying degrees of enthusiasm, some beckoning and pointing to brightly colored banners advertising new shows and tours. He turned swiftly to look at April, his lips parted.

"Are we... Can we.. really go inside?"

April's smile lit up her face and she looped her arm with his again. "Yes, Donnie. We can really go inside. Full tour and everything." The breathless smile on Donnie's face disappeared into her shoulder when he caught her in a tight hug, his strong arms locked around her for a full minute. It was brilliantly touching.

"Come on, let's go!" And with that, he tugged her inside. The two of them hurried into the stunning entryway, and for the next few hours, they moved from exhibit to exhibit with all the reverence of traveling pilgrims at a holy site. April had been to the museum a dozen times, but seeing it with Donnie – who was more illuminated than she'd ever seen him – made her laugh and gawk and enjoy it in a way she hadn't since she was a little girl. He read every sign, studied every skeleton, pointed out every display. By the end of it, the both of them were exhausted and starving.

They left the museum and headed across the street to a food stand. Donnie couldn't remember a time in his life when he'd been able to share his excitement over something so new and interesting, something he'd never thought he'd be able to do. He rocked back and forth on the heels of his new sneakers, waiting for April to order their food from the fat guy behind the stand.

His eyes drifted over the crowds of people to the nearby condiment station. And it was then that he saw him, a tuft of unruly dark hair and a dirty bandana. Casey Jones stood nearby, his dark brows knitted with confusion. He was staring at the two of them, obviously wondering just who in the hell was standing arm-in-arm with April O'Neil against the dying sunset of a beautiful Saturday. Donnie's eyes slowly shifted back to April, who was busy ordering from the chalkboard menu.

"Hey," Donnie fought to cover a sneaky grin as he turned back to April. "I'll be right back. Stay right here."

"Uh, okay -"

Donnie made sure April was busy ordering once more before he shifted through a group of people, his eyes lifting nonchalantly around the scenery before he stopped at the condiment stand right next to Casey. A quick, friendly smile and then Donnie pointed. "Hey man," he said carefully, almost unable to control his laughter at Casey's bewildered stare. "Can you hand me some of that?" he pointed to a basket of packets.

Casey glanced over his shoulder and grabbed some of the packets. "Yeah, here dude." He glanced up at April again, then back at Donnie, obviously trying to make the connection.

"Thanks," Donnie said, faking a sigh of relief. "I was afraid they wouldn't have any. My girlfriend loves these things!"

And if Casey's expression had been only confused and curious before, it was nothing compared to the look of shock coloring his features now. Donnie had already turned away and headed back to April several feet away, but by the time he reached her, he was laughing hard enough to arouse her suspicions. He was nearly doubled over, fighting to regain his breathing and try to steer April away, when she spotted Casey.

"Oh, god." She face-palmed. "What did you say to Casey?"

"Nothing!"

"You're a sorry liar, Donnie!" April snatched his polo and dragged him away from the food stand, over to where Casey was still standing, his expression twisted into one of distraught fury. "Hey April," he said, his tone none-too-friendly. "And … nameless dude," he dropped a flat glare at Donnie, who was finally just smiling instead of laughing.

"Casey, shut up. This is Donnie."

"Donnie who?"

The 'Donnie' in question rolled his eyes,"How many Donatello's could you possible know?"

Casey jerked in surprise, his dark eyes squinting at Donnie's face. After a long moment, he took a step back. "Whoa, what the – How in the hell did this happen? No wonder I haven't seen you guys in over a week."

"It was a lab accident," April explained, shifting the box of food in her arms.

"Accident," Casey repeated with with a roll of his eyes. "Yeah. Whatever."

Donnie felt a burn of rage in his chest. "You know, you and Raph should really just start dating."

"Bite me, dork. April, Donnie called you his girlfriend just to try and -"

"Oh, please, like you haven't called her that before!"

"Are you seriously callin' me out? Because while we're at it, let's all remember -"

"_Shut up!_" April's shriek brought the increasingly heated argument to a grinding halt, and both of the boys turned to face her, alarmed. April dropped the food onto a bench and pointed at both of them. "Okay, you know what? I'm over this. Like, so over it I could be on the moon. Do you see this?" April beckoned at waist-level. "This is my level of tolerance." She brought the hand up to her shoulder. "This is where you two idiots are. That's how done I am. Have I mentioned I'm done? Because I'm _done_. By THIS MUCH." She gestured wildly.

"But April -"

"Come on, Red -"

"No, guys." April folded her arms, her lips set in a tight line. "You two are my friends, even though you're both thoughtless dolts sometimes. Well, guess what? Now, you're going to be thoughtless dolts together. Friends. With each other. Right now."

"But -"

"Or you can both lose my number forever," she snapped. The two boys glanced at each other, mirrored expressions of loathing and blame. April tilted her head, a dangerous, narrowed gaze on them both. "First order of business," she continued briskly. "You two are going to hug."

"... _What_?"

"No way -"

"Hug!" April stomped her foot. "I mean it. None of that bro-hug, either. Full on, arms wrapped up, loving embrace. Right now." The mutual expressions shared between them shifted into embarrassment, though the loathing remained. "Guys?" April tapped her wrist where a watch might be. "Get on with it. Because, as I've already said, I'm totally -"

"Done, yeah, we got it," Donnie groused quietly. April hummed pointedly and gestured, an evil smirk working its way onto her face. Donnie glanced at Casey with a dark-eyed glare, but both of them knew that, for April, surrender was inevitable.

They shuffled into a slow, painfully awkward hug.

"Theeeeeere ya go," April taunted from the side. "So nice and sweet. I love seeing people make new friends."

"I'm not 100% convinced this is worth it," Casey grumbled, still locked into the uncomfortable embrace with Donnie.

In response, and in an effort to make him even more irritated, Donnie rubbed soothing circles on Casey's back. "There, there, little one." Casey yanked away and shoved him, making Donnie smirk and roll his eyes.

"That was so touching," April placed a hand over her heart, a pleased grin curling her lips. "What a nice way to start a friendship. And such good practice, too, as I'm sure you'll both be hugging a lot in the future."

The two boys exchanged Looks once more.

"Man," Casey huffed at the sky. "Today sucks!"

* * *

"_Karai? Are you awake?"_

_She was pretending to be asleep. He could see it the minute stirring of her body, her torso curled up on a low mat Master Splinter had given her. Leonardo moved to turn away, willing to allow her the veil of feigned sleep if she felt the need to be alone. _

"_.. Leo?" _

_He paused, his hand still poised on the screen. When he glanced over his shoulder, he saw she had rolled over to face him, though she remained lying down. Leo turned to her. _

"_Yeah?" _

_Karai paused, a shadow in the semi-darkness of the newly divided dojo. "You can stay for a few minutes, if you want." Leonardo shifted a thoughtful glance over her silhouette and then peeked over at the dojo entrance. The other rooms were all wrapped in the inky blackness unique to the sewer lair. Everyone else was asleep, he knew, including Master Splinter. His room was connected to the dojo. Their master was only ten feet away, behind a screen door._

_And he would not approve of Leo lingering around the dojo with Karai afterhours._

_He stepped inside anyway and slid the screen back in place. Moving with as little sound as possible, he shifted into a seated position next to Karai's mat. She watched him, her eyes seemingly larger and younger without the red makeup highlighting the sharp edges of her face. _"_Are you okay?" he asked in a whisper, silently praying for the depth of Master Splinter's sleep. _

_"Of course I am," Karai answered, her voice equally hushed but no less cutting than usual. Leo could see it, though. The doubt and uncertainty that tainted her features, the shock of the new situation ebbing away at her usual confidence. It was the same goodness he'd seen in her on that first day, the one that could manifest in a playfulness and even gentle mercy when she cared to let it show._

_Leo smiled down at her, and, enjoying the feeling of rebellion that swept over him, he moved down carefully onto his side next to her mat. The thrill of lying next to someone in such an intimate way was its own reward, but the comfortable, warm feeling of knowing it was Karai made the sensation all the more satisfying. _

_She even smiled at him, one of those rare smiles of hers that wasn't mocking or sarcastic. It was reminiscent of the photo of her mother, the same smile on a very similar face. _

"_It is weird being here, though..." she whispered, her eyes dropping to the mat. She traced a pattern on it with her fingertip. "I mean, imagine if you were in Shredder's place right now, dealing with the same things I'm dealing with." _

"_That sounds terrible," Leo whispered honestly, his lips quirked. "But then again, Shredder is .." A lot of adjectives came to mind, but Leo tried to be sensitive. "... not the greatest guy, obviously." _

_Karai rolled her eyes at his attempt at courtesy. "And what are you guys...?" she smirked. _

_Leo made a thoughtful noise. "Honestly? We're loud. We make a huge mess all the time. My brothers and I all fight, and Master Splinter has to yell at us because we act like idiots sometimes." He ticked off items on his fingers. "Mikey's a terrible singer, Raph breaks stuff all the time, Donnie blows stuff up and sometimes catches the lair on fire, and I..." he paused, shooting a quick glance at Karai's anticipatory grin. "... I am a model brother and son." _

_A cheeky smile, which earned him a sharp poke from Karai. "You liar." _

"_Yeah, okay. I admit it. Sometimes I drink all the milk and put the empty carton back in the fridge." _

"_Wow," Karai snickered. "That is truly devious. You guys are wild, for sure." _

_Leo grinned._ "_You're running with the big dogs now, Karai. Things get serious here." He turned his head toward hers. "Thursdays are Board Game Nights. Loser has to scrub the bathrooms that week." He leaned forward a bit, his voice dropping into a low, conspiratorial whisper. "Mikey is freaky good at Monopoly." _

_Karai lapsed into another fit of barely-stifled giggles. "You guys are such losers." _

_Leo drank in her laughter, a hand moving to prop up his head on his side."Maybe," he shrugged against the floor. "But we have fun. And we love each other, even if we are bad at saying it sometimes." _

_Karai's laughter died away and a truer look settled into her eyes. "Love," she repeated, her tone low and flat. "Can't say that's something Shredder ever taught me." Leo wasn't sure that was true – something told him Shredder actually cared about Karai, in his own way – but he didn't dare say that. Instead, he shifted just a little closer and met her gaze._

"_You don't have to be taught, Karai..." Leo tucked his head against the crook of his arm. "It's just something that comes to you when the time is right." Karai shifted in her spot, a piece of hair falling over a watchful eye._

"_And what if I'm bad at waiting?" _

_Leo's lips quirked. "Then you'll have to practice patience." _

_Karai huffed. "Not my best skill," she muttered. _

_"So I noticed," he whispered in reply. A pause settled between them, neither speaking nor making an effort to do so. Then - _

"_Leo?" _

"_Yeah?" _

_She hesitated, as if she was trying to tell him something but couldn't find the words. Finally, she shrugged and turned on the mat. "I'm sleepy. Go back to your turtle hut or whatever you sleep in." Leonardo rolled his eyes at her and sat up, casting one last contented glance at her before standing. _

"_Good night, Karai." _

_She shifted to watch him go, her dark eyes vigilant. "Good night," she said softly. Before he could leave, she added - _

"_In the morning, you can teach me that game. The one your brother's good at." _

_Leonardo smiled. "Okay." He slid the screen shut once more, nothing more than a silhouette behind it until the light blinked off behind him and darkness enveloped the dojo._

_The next day, the game boards all remained stacked up, neat and forgotten._

* * *

Author's Note: This story has a plot at some point. I swear.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: Thanks for the love, guys! I just watched the new episode (_Serpent Hunt_) and wow, it was awesome. Even better than that, I felt like it reinforced where I'm going with this story. Love it.

Every once in a while, I'll add a song suggestion for a chapter or even a particular scene. In this case, "The Devil Within" by Digital Daggers would be an apt song for this chapter.

* * *

_It was a maze._

_Grey walls, elevated shadows that hovered like storm clouds overhead. He could feel his feet pounding into the floor as he ran, but they made no noise. Instead, it was the echoing roll of thunder that filled his mind, the distant sizzle that trailed a crackling hiss nearby. _

_He turned a sharp corner, fighting for breath. His torso burned in a line straight down the center like a fresh incision. The floor gave away, the gray walls collapsed. The black shroud lingered and then dropped, enveloping him._

_**Red**__. _

* * *

"Donnie!"

The bedroom door crashed open and Raphael's silhouette filled the archway. The scientist's eyes jerked up, his body shifting carefully in the dark square of his bed. Raphael entered warily, his eyes ticking around the room for any signs of danger. He relaxed only a little to see Donnie in his bed, breathless but safe.

"Sorry," Donatello whispered with a short, nervous laugh. "Nightmare."

Raphael blinked at his brother, taking a moment to glance him over. Donnie pulled his covers a little tighter around his shoulders, tucked under his chin. The room was dark, save for the dim, ghastly lighting from dusty corner lamp.

"Sure you're okay?" Raphael asked, his brows furrowed. He shifted his weight on his feet. "You screamed pretty loud."

Donnie nodded hurriedly. "M'fine. Thanks, bro." The covers shifted higher and tighter. Raphael did not miss the small movement, but neither did he comment. After a moment's more inspection, he nodded.

"Alright, dude. Try to get some sleep."

He turned and closed the door behind him, eclipsing the room in darkness once more. Donnie swallowed tightly and grimaced, slowly allowing himself to draw his arms out from the comfort and warmth of his blankets. A hand fumbled blindly for his lamp, fingers dropping wetly across the base before finding purchase. He drew the circle of light over his bed and found what he already knew was there.

Blood dripped from the ribbons scratched into his arms. Donnie turned over one human hand, his fingernails thickly coated with blood and skin. He flexed the fingers and shook his head, a shaky sigh escaping him.

His eyes itched and burned, but when he swiped at them with his hand, it left only a long red smear.

* * *

April O'Neil groaned.

"Ack! That's the second time this week," she muttered, stepping into the lair with her nose wrinkled.

A turtle popped up beside her with startling speed. "Baha-ha!" Michelangelo pointed. "Did you fall in the sewage again?"

April glared. "Just my shoe," she pointed, before dropping to kick off the infernal sneaker. She dropped the pair of them next to the door. She'd have to wash those before she went back home.

"Dude," Mikey raised a brow ridge at her, leaning over dramatically. "Do you know what _sewage is? _Because I totally do." He took in a deep breath. "Get this! It's_ – _OOF_!" _Mikey toppled over mid-sentence, gripping his front from the force of a dodgeball hit to the plastron.

"Mikey!" Leo warned from the couch. "I told you to stop talking about that!"

"DUDE! What was that, a freaking cannonball?!"

April grinned as Leo turned back to the television. "None of your business," he told Mikey, who was still rolling around on the floor in a massive show of theatrics.

"Thank you," April called out to the blue-clad turtle. He offered her a thumb's-up in reply, eyes still on the television, though she did hear him jump up from the couch when Mikey threw a tissue box at him. Smirking, April turned to the dojo and hopped up the few steps to the door.

She paused when she saw Donatello inside, just visible in the sliver of open door. He was alone, twirling his bo staff absently as he walked around the room, obviously deep in thought. He wasn't wearing the clothes she'd bought him – instead, he wore only the traditional Japanese _hakama _that she knew must belong to Master Splinter, dark fabric that tied low on his waist and stopped just above his ankles. On his torso was only the leather strap for his staff, the holder empty for the moment.

April watched, fascinated, as he moved the staff skillfully between both hands. Apparently, he'd gotten the hang of using it once more, because now his movements were no less practiced and familiar than before. He tossed it from hand to hand, moving it behind his back and over his shoulders in fluid spins as he paced, his dark eyes vacant.

April wondered what he was thinking about. He looked so far away.

As she watched, Donatello paused in the center of the dojo and lifted his staff, sliding it onto his shoulders and settling his hands loosely on each end, his arms outstretched. His gaze settled on an indistinct section of wall and fell still. April wasn't sure if she had the strength to tear her eyes away.

"April!" said a voice abruptly from her side, making her jump. Raphael squinted at her, his arms folded. "Can you go drool somewhere else, please?"

April blinked out of her stupor and a scarlet flush jumped up her neck. "What - I was not!" she hissed, glancing quickly at the door to make sure Donnie hadn't heard them.

"Sure you were," Raph whispered back, his voice much louder than hers. "You were just starin' at Donnie like this -" he adopted an open-mouthed, cross-eyed look, complete with slump and lolling tongue.

"Shut up, Raph! No, I wasn't!" April pushed at his plastron, earning her a poke in the side.

The two of them were still tussling when the dojo door slid back with a snap. Donnie raised a brow. "April?" he questioned, and the redhead quickly shoved away from Raph, who rolled his eyes.

"Hey Donnie," she laughed nervously, secretly shooting Raphael a pleading look. She was too distracted to notice Donatello's eyes, which narrowed deeply on his brother even after he had moved away from April. However, she did notice Raphael balk, an uncharacteristic hint of apprehension coloring his features as he and his brother locked gazes. By the time she looked back at Donnie's face, he had turned back to her with a smile.

"You ready?" asked Donnie.

"Uh, yeah. Everything ready in the lab?" she smiled.

Donnie nodded. "Let me just go wash up and I'll be there in two shakes of a turtle's tail," he grinned at her and then dropped down the few steps to the main living area. April turned to Raphael and stuck out her tongue before dashing off to the lab.

And all the while, Raphael stared and wondered what the hell that look had been about.

* * *

"Stop touching them, dude."

"I can't help it. They feel weird on shirts."

"Damn it, Donnie! I mean it! You do that one more time and I'll -"

"I just can't help but wonder what their evolutionary purpose is."

"On guys? They're there to decorate your pecs. Now stop touching them!"

April O'Neil rounded a corner and shook her head. "Do I even want to know what you two are talking about?"

In front of her, Casey Jones kicked up his feet and hopped to a standing position. He pointed. "Donnie keeps touching his nipples," he complained.

Donnie dropped his hands into his lap and shrugged. "Seems like something that warrants investigation," he said blithely, earning a giggle from April.

"Are you two sure you don't need me to tag along?" she asked skeptically. It was a bright Saturday afternoon, and she was about to let the two of them leave her apartment. Without her. Maybe she shouldn't have forced the hug. It was making strange things happen. Like the two of them voluntarily going off by themselves, telling her in no uncertain terms that this was _guy time._

"Nope," Casey twirled his keys around a finger. "All you've been teaching him is girl crap," he waved a hand, ignoring April's glare. "Donnie's a guy! He needs someone to teach him how to be a _man_." Casey pounded his chest with a closed fist, a grin locked firmly in place.

April raised a brow, unimpressed. "Mm, maybe you're right. Be sure to tell me when your dad gets home and we'll see if he's up to it."

Donnie barely choked back a round of laughter before Casey yanked him out of the door with a growl. "Really, though. Thanks for this," Donnie glanced sidelong at him as they strolled the streets. He glanced over his shoulder at April's apartment. "There's certain things I just didn't want to get April's help with, ya know?"

Casey waved him off. "Yeah, it's not that big of a deal. I guess we shouldn't be arguing all the time and stuff anyway. That's what catty girls do." He rolled his eyes. "We're more level-headed than that. We gotta be the strong ones, ya know? They depend on us." Donnie's lips quirked as he fought the effort to mentally catalog Casey's machismo for later relay to April. She'd appreciate it, he was sure, being the weaker sex and all.

Besides, he was feeling pretty good about himself lately. Any concerns about Casey as a rival for April's affection felt... almost silly. It was a liberating feeling, this sort of delirious confidence that had overtaken him as of late. He shifted his hands into the pockets of his jeans and turned his eyes to the various stores. "So what did you need, anyway?" Casey asked, eyeing a food stand as they passed by.

Donnie's gaze raked over some signs. "Just some nice dress clothes."

"Dress clothes?" Casey repeated, bewildered. "First of all, the hell you need dress clothes for? And second of all, I don't really think I'm going to be much help. I don't think I even own a shirt with buttons."

Donnie rolled his eyes. "Well, unfortunately you're my only option." He paused outside a store window and looked over a mannequin wearing a suit. Nah, that was too much. Casey stopped beside him and gave him an uncanny look from the side.

"You need this for a date, don't you." It wasn't a question.

Donnie shifted his gaze over to Casey and tilted his head. "Maybe." He looked back at the window.

To his surprise, Casey laughed. "Oh, god. You're really going to take April out on a date, aren't you? Man, I wish I could see that."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Donnie snapped.

Casey inhaled deeply. "Dude, you don't even know how to order at a restaurant, much less take a girl out!"

Donnie moved away from the display case and rolled his eyes. Casey's obvious amusement was grating. Like he was so incapable of having a nice evening out with April. A _normal time. _"Casey, I could probably spend the first twenty years of my life as a hermit living under a bus station bench and still have better restaurant etiquette than you."

"Mm, maybe," Casey agreed mildly, tapping his chin. "Do you even know how to eat with a fork, though?"

"_Wow_," Donnie exclaimed. "That was incredibly racist, thank you."

"I've only ever seen you eat with chopsticks. It was an honest question!"

"Yes, I know how to use a fork." He shook his head, and the two of them continued again.

Casey held up hands in surrender. "Okay, look, I'll help you out. But only because I think this is going to go hysterically bad for you, and I kinda want to watch that happen. So here." He pushed open a shop door. "Go ahead."

* * *

Despite the bumpy start, Donatello had to admit – it wasn't the worst day ever. Casey was, despite all appearances, mildly helpful in procuring some clothes. They also had the help of a bubbly store clerk lady who, as Donnie quickly figured out, definitely thought he and Casey were dating. Casey was oblivious, which made it a thousand times better in Donnie's opinion.

"Special night?" she asked Casey at one point as he eyed a collared shirt. He grinned at her and shrugged.

"Sure, a special night for _him_." And then he winked at Donatello, who struggled valiantly to contain his laughter and nearly suffocated to death behind a clothes rack. When they went to pay and Donnie handed the woman a bank card, Casey's brows furrowed in confusion. "How do you even have money?"

"I sell refurbished electronics online," Donnie pocketed the card again.

Casey blinked. "Wow, that's actually... really smart," he admitted. Donnie smirked and led him out of the store, shopping bag slung over his shoulder. The two of them crossed a busy street and hopped onto a sidewalk full of people. They stopped to get a few sodas before continuing their trek. The crowd thinned out and a pair of pretty teenage girls walked by. Donnie glanced up from his drink just as the two girls smiled and waved in unison at them, one even winking at Casey, who responded with a grin. Donnie stared blankly.

When they passed by and the girls were out sight, Casey nudged him in the arm. "Dude," he grinned. "If you learning anything from me, let it be this: if a girl smiles and waves at you, try not to look _confused_."

* * *

Michelangelo bit his tongue in thought. He was painting a picture in his room, something he planned on gifting to Master Splinter for Father's Day. It had started out as a picture of all of them together, but had since devolved into a rainbow.

His blue eyes drifted up at a curious snipping noise.

Stepping away from his canvas, Mikey peeked out of his bedroom door. The noise continued, occasionally followed by a soft grunt or whimper. His brows low, he wandered out of his room and followed the sounds to the door of Donnie's lab. He hesitated – he had promised he wouldn't go in there, and he really meant it this time, seriously – but something in the pit of his stomach told him things just weren't right.

He opened the door.

His brother Donnie sat in a computer chair, hunched over with his hands curled into his lap. How long had he been home? He'd been out with Casey just a few hours ago. Mikey stepped forward uncertainly, his head tilted as he struggled to see what was going on in Donnie's lap.

_Snip. Snip. Click. Drip. Drip. Snip._

Mikey's alert eyes finally found the silver glint of the nail-clippers, and before he could open his mouth to speak, Donnie had jabbed his fingertips with the small blades again, his expression drawn, focused and gaunt. _Clip. Snip. Clip_. He was cutting his fingernails with a manic fervor, his entire body curled over his lap, and every few snips cut a chunk of flesh from his fingers instead of nail. An alarming amount of blood already dotted the floor beneath his chair, smeared into arches by the wheels in a macabre imitation of Mikey's rainbow painting.

"Dude!" Mikey leapt forward, grinding to a stop when Donnie jerked back, his eyes wide.

"I'm just – I just -" Mikey wondered what was making his brother so frantic. "I keep scratching myself at night!" Donnie protested wildly, trying to move away from Mikey's hands. The younger brother pulled back his own hands and held them up.

"Hey, hey..." Mikey soothed, dropping to his knees in front of his brother. "It's okay, dude."

Donnie tried to move away again, but Mikey put a gentle hand on the chair arm and stopped him. The scientist relaxed a bit, his eyes darting over Mikey's face before he looked back at his mangled fingertips, stained crimson. Gingerly, Mikey reached out and took the nail clippers. "It's cool, bro." He smiled, though it wavered uncertainly. "No more scratching, got it. Just let me do it."

Slowly, Donnie lowered trembling hands to his lap. He seemed ignorant of the blood, which he made no motion to clean. Mikey's jaw clenched a little, but he simply reached over for a rag and blotted at the bloody fingernails. When they were clear, he clipped off just the nail tips of the few undamaged fingers. When he was done, he tucked the nail-clippers into his own belt.

"Better?" he tried to smile.

Donnie turned his hands over in his lap and traced one damaged tip over a palm line. "Better," he agreed stoically.

* * *

Three days after shopping with Casey, Donatello stepped out of his room with a bit more apprehension than he cared to admit. A quick glance in the mirror confirmed the image he'd seen in his bedroom – his tall, lean human form wrapped in a pair of black slacks and a carefully pressed blue button-up, a slim black tie firmly in place. The cuffs were meticulously ironed and buttoned, the collar shifted properly just above the neckline of his undershirt.

"You look very handsome, my son."

Donnie's eye lifted to Master Splinter, who watched him curiously from a doorway. The rat moved gracefully to close the few steps between them. He placed a hand on Donnie's shoulder, briefly touching a clawed hand to his hair. Donnie appreciated the gentle touch and accepted the soothing comfort it brought. "Thanks, Sensei."

A soft sigh from Master Splinter, a tenderness Donnie had rarely seen shifting behind his eyes. "You are all growing up," he told Donatello, as if he felt the need to remind them. "And although things have not gone as I had imagined for you all, I do not believe I could be any prouder of my children. All of them."

Donnie's lips lifted into a smile.

"Think it'll go okay?" he asked hesitantly, his eyes dropping. The confidence that had marked his last few days felt far away, the discomfort he was so much more familiar with taking its place. Master Splinter moved his hand to Donnie's shoulder, but he took his time answering, instead pausing thoughtfully.

After a long moment, he nodded. "Yes, my son. I believe you will have a wonderful time." The clawed hand dropped away and resumed its usual place on the top of Splinter's staff. "Of course, that is only so long as you mind yourself. Recall my earlier words to you. Treat yourself and April with respect. Be mindful of your surroundings. And above all, keep yourselves safe."

Donatello's t-phone buzzed and he glanced down. It was time to go. Splinter stepped back and gave him a nod, dismissing him. Donnie hesitated and then pocketed his phone, his eyes turning to Splinter's. "Thanks, father," he murmured, before he turned and hurried out of the lair.

Hamato Yoshi watched him go.

* * *

April turned nervously in front of her mirror, one hand clutching self-consciously at the hem of her dress. Was it too short? It was only an inch or so above her knees, surely that wasn't – Well, didn't it depend on the restaurant? Donnie had mentioned the name and she'd Googled it. Just looking at the menu made her stress over what to wear.

_Get a grip, April! _

She straightened length of the dress one more time and took in a deep breath. Her normally restrained hair fell loosely on her shoulders and framed her face. She wore a simple but lovely black cocktail dress, something her aunt had called "mature but age-appropiate," even though it was definitely nicer and more grown-up than anything she'd worn before.

A knock at her door made her jump. "April, Donatello is here!" her father called. That poor man, she wasn't sure if he really believed that Donnie the guy was Donnie the turtle, or if he was simply so burnt out on strange happenings that he had simply given up hope of understanding. Either way, April gave him only the most essential information and he went along with it.

"Come in," April called, turning to face the door just as Donnie stepped through.

Her heart jumped into her throat, her eyes wide. When he saw her, his shocked expression was exhilarating and downright terrifying. It quickly shifted into a well-known smile, sheepish, a little embarrassed, but never disingenuous. It was the full-on Donnie smile that had met her on that first day, when she'd been locked in a Kraang cell with no hope of escape. "You look beautiful," he sounded stunned.

It spurned April's confidence and she stepped forward, a flush blazing on her cheeks. "You.. look really nice, too." She did nothing to combat the grin and a short laugh escaped her. This was her friend, Donnie. And she would be damned if she made this awkward and missed out on a fun night with him.

She looped his arm and shot him a sly, mischievous look. He returned it in kind and led her out the door.

* * *

The restaurant was amazing. Donatello privately congratulated himself, even though, really, he'd had his pick of the litter. New York City was no slouch in finery department, and he'd had to sort through several fine dining establishments before settling on this one. April stuck close to him, possibly out of nerves, and he didn't mind. The two of them took a seat at a beautifully dressed table, an instrumental band playing nearby. Other finely dressed diners sat and chatted amicably all around them.

"This place is so nice," April murmured as they were seated by a uniformed man.

Donnie's lips quirked at her and he shrugged. "Yeah," he glanced around. "But I may never get to do this again. I wanted to make it count." The redhead accepted a glass of water from the waiter.

"This was really nice of you," she told him softly. "I.. I've never felt like – I mean, I've never had someone treat me like I was so special before." She shrugged her slim shoulders, her eyes turned down shyly to her lap. Donnie responded by offering her a hand over the table, palm turned up. After a moment, April's hand slid smoothly into his. "What happened to your fingers?" she asked curiously, her digits brushing over the tip of small, carefully cared for cuts near his nails. Donnie enjoyed the sweeping motion of her fingers over his.

"Just roughed up from training," he told her.

When April affectionately brushed her thumb over his knuckles, he felt a warmth stir inside of him. They ate and laughed, ordering items they couldn't properly pronounce (though they came much closer than other diners, according to their friendly waiter). They people-watched and even spotted a few celebrities, giggling when one of them got escorted out for being overly drunk.

As their food was being cleared away, the string quartet in the corner picked up another soft instrumental tune, accompanied by a single man at the piano. Donnie turned to April and offered her a hand. "You want to dance?"

April blinked and then glanced around, an uncertain laugh escaping her. "Uh, D? No one else is dancing." She shifted in her chair only to find Donnie directly in front of her, his hand still extended.

"It doesn't matter to me what the other people are doing," he told her with a sort of frank sincerity that was distinctly him. "You and I are the only ones I'm concerned about right now."

She dropped her head briefly to laugh, her cheeks rosy once more. However, she obviously decided she couldn't leave him hanging, and a few moments later, Donnie had drawn her to the open area in front of the band. He paused only to give her a brief bow, a habit deeply ingrained in him by his upbringing. April giggled and returned it, dropping into a comfortable stance as Donnie drew her into his arms, his lips quirked in that silly way they often did when he was truly at peace, relaxed and amused.

The piano music drifted around them and set the pace for their movements, a variation on Pachebel's Canon. He could tell April was worried about the actual dancing, even though she wasn't nearly as graceless as the turtles liked to label her sometimes. Donnie guided her movements with his own, his taller height making him incline his head towards hers intimately.

When she bit her lip and turned her blue eyes up to his, he felt his smile grow. He let their foreheads drop together and April closed her eyes for a moment, her fingers tightening on his shoulder and then pressing up further to brush his neck. A few of the other diners had stopped eating to watch them, as captivated as the two dancers were oblivious.

April even twirled once in his arms, falling back between them naturally and this time, Donnie slipped one of them around her waist and pulled her close. They continued to move around the floor, feet gliding together effortlessly. April's eyes never so much as wandered, not even once, and when the song finally ended, Donnie lowered their joined hands but didn't release her.

The last of the piano notes echoed and then slipped away, but Donnie wasn't listening anymore.

The two of them stood, scarcely an inch apart, in the middle of a restaurant floor. Donatello tilted his head, his eyes on hers and pressed closer. Their lips brushed.

_Crash! _

The entire front half of the establishment shattered under the weight of an enormous projectile, splintering the walls and smashing glass into thousands of sharp pieces. Diners screamed and dove for cover. Donatello swiftly snatched April under his arms, shielding her from the debris as he yanked both of them towards the back of the dining room.

On the street, people shouted and cried out. The massive object that had crashed through the restaurant's front moved, and it was then that Donnie realized with a spike of fear that it was a towering, grotesque _mutant _of all things, one he did not recognize. Outside, the grating voice of Rahzar could be heard barking orders, the accented retorts of Xever answering promptly.

"Come on!" Donnie exclaimed, grabbing April's hand. The two of them rushed through the bystanders, most of whom had panicked and run from the fight outside. Donnie bounced around the injured mutant, who swiped at some fleeing customers half-heartedly as it struggled to stand once more. However, it never got the chance. Tiger Claw appeared like a demon of the night, rolling from a jump and then raising his blaster with a snarl. With one quick bolt of energy, the massive mutant fell dead on the pile of rubble that had been the restaurant entrance.

"Damn Karai and all these mutations," Donnie heard him growl.

April shrieked at his side, pointing to the dark street outside. "Donnie, look!" The two of them clambered over the debris to the street and then looked up at the sky. The street was alight with chaos, Rahzar and Xever fighting to subdue the mutated Karai. She continued to hiss and spit, and just as before, her venon was mutating anything it touched. On the rooftop across the street, Leonardo shouted.

He ordered, "There she is! Hurry, before they get to her!"

As Donnie watched, his brothers jumped and flipped down the walls of the building, each landing on the street with weapons drawn and narrowed eyes. They were quickly set upon by Shredder's henchman, as well as the frantic and wild Karai, who was now snatching innocent bystanders with her snake hands and hurling them into buildings.

Donnie turned to face April. "I have to go help them," he told her firmly. "I want you to stay here -"

"Donnie!"

"I mean it, April! Stay here!" Donnie turned without another word, his heart pounding furiously in his chest as he jumped over a pile of debris and miserably grieved the absence of his staff. What could he even possibly do to help them? Well, weapon or not, he had to try. He could distract them, maybe ward off the insane Karai. He skidded to a stop in the middle of the street, looking oddly out of place in the midst of the battle.

He turned to shout for his brothers, but a heavy crash in front of him had him looking straight up into the eyes of TigerClaw. The gruff mutated cat twitched his whisker, his good eye staring down at Donnie disapprovingly. Donatello took a step back and prepared to fight, but to his shock, TigerClaw merely stepped past him and jumped onto a parked car to take a shot at Mikey.

Donnie blinked and then swiveled in his spot, indignant rage threatening to overtake him. TigerClaw had just _ignored _him! That sorry overstuffed dog toy! He seemed to have no problem beating up his brothers, who were fighting multiple mutants at once. No, he'd moved past him as if he were just another guy on the str -

"Holy Newton," Donnie gasped, his eyes wide. He faced the chaos of the battle once more, his hands dropping from their defensive stance. TigerClaw hadn't _recognized _him. He'd thought Donnie was just a civilian who got in the way. Of course he had no idea what Donnie looked like now – and he didn't know him well enough to recognize his voice or eyes.

The battle came to a screeching halt when the serpentine mutant overturned a whole lane of cars, crushing Xever and Rahzar underneath a tow truck before she cut away into the night. TigerClaw, seeing that the battle was over, disappeared as well. The mutants Karai had created with her venom, similar to the one TigerClaw had fought and executed, were now fighting the turtles with feral, unrestrained abandon. One of them got put down by Raphael's sai when it tried to rip his throat open, but the other two escaped, leaving yet another opportunity for chaos in the city.

Donnie turned in a slow circle in the shattered remains of the street, where wood, steel, glass and even flesh littered the sidewalks and asphalt. April appeared at his side, her eyes worried. "Are you okay?" she asked, looking around frantically for the other turtles she knew were close by.

Donnie nodded numbly, a hand reaching up to touch hers. "Yeah. I think so." Sirens sounded and police began to swarm. Donnie and April moved away from the wreckage and hurried down the street to return to the lair. Before they got to the sewer, however, Donatello paused and looked out over the cityscape once more.

"What is it?" April asked curiously, her gaze following his. Donnie watched as the city lights blurred in his vision, background settings to his rapidfire thoughts.

"I think I have an idea."


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note: Is it time to update yet? Maybe? I guess that's up to me, huh. Update time!

* * *

"No way."

"Dude, that's crazy!"

"Donnie," April cut in from the side, her lips parted in disbelief. "You can't be serious!"

Donatello drew in a deep breath. He had expected this response; he was ready for it. Shooting only a quick glance at April, who was already distracting enough while still in her evening wear, he looked back to his brothers and Master Splinter. "Listen to me, guys. This can work," he started, Raphael interrupted him.

"Donnie, you're talking about heading into Shredder's lair. Alone. Without us to back you up!" Donnie fought to cover his annoyance, to overlook the fact that Raphael's gruff, matter-of-fact tone made it sound like "backing him up" was a chore Raphael would rather not deal with. A burden.

"Just be quiet and listen to me!" Donnie exclaimed, hands outstretched. Mikey rocked back and forth on his heels nervously, but Donnie hurried to speak before he could blurt something else out. Raphael folded his arms and grunted. "Guys, when I saw TigerClaw earlier tonight, he had no idea who I was. He didn't recognize me at all. And you know what? Shredder won't either." Dark red eyes ticked over to Leonardo, who stood by silently, his expression unreadable. "If I can fool Shredder into letting me into the Foot Clan, I'll have access to everything I need to create the retro-mutagen." The dim light of the kitchen illuminated only a small circle around where the family sat, creating a pool of yellow between Donnie and his brothers.

"Stockman's lab may have gotten destroyed when Karai mutated, but you know Shredder's already built him something new. Something advanced, with all the mutagen and equipment he could possibly need to cure her," continued Donnie. "He'll have machinery and data that I've never had access to, things that I could use to create the retro-mutagen in half the time it would take that idiot Stockman." He dropped his hands.

"And what the hell makes you think Shredder will even want you in the Foot Clan?" Raphael asked, no less blunt than usual. "If you can't tell him you're a ninja -"

"I'll tell him what he needs to know," Donnie said flatly. "And besides, if they're willing to recruit someone like Timothy, what makes you think they wouldn't want me? They can't use those FootBots for everything. They need flesh and blood somewhere."

"But dude," Mikey cut in. "What if Shredder _does _figure it out? He could cut you down to tiny bite-size pieces before we even know what's happening!"

"He won't figure it out, Mikey. I won't let him."

"That's an awful lot of confidence coming from you," Raphael raised a brow ridge. "How would you even manage to trick someone like Shredder? Especially considering that you're not exactly the smoothest of guys."

Donnie shook his head, mentally capping his irritation with a great deal of effort. "It will work, guys. And with me inside the Foot, we'll have more than just a lab at our disposal." He turned to Leonardo, vaguely aware that he was touching on sensitive subjects, particularly with a silent Master Splinter standing so nearby, observant and silent. "If Shredder gets to Karai before we do, I'll know about it, but only if I'm already there. I could help her, get her out, give you guys her location. And then when she's safe and we have the retro-mutagen, we take down Shredder once and for all. From the inside."

"Won't Shredder, like... notice you're gone?" Mikey scratched his head.

Donnie nodded reluctantly. "We're going to have to figure out some way around that."

"My son," Master Splinter spoke up. "I am not certain this is the wisest of maneuvers. Shredder is no fool. He will be suspicious of your arrival."

"I'm no fool either, Sensei," Donnie said firmly. "And I won't give him a reason to be suspicious. I can handle this." Dark eyes turned to his brothers, determined and flat. "We'll use Shredder to get what we need and then we take him out. We can solve _all_ of our problems just by having me on the inside. If you guys are willing to support me."

Leonardo dipped his head, obviously deep in thought. For a moment, he looked as if he wanted to turn to Master Splinter. Donatello could see him struggling against the desire for guidance, his jaw clenched and his body tense. In the end, he did not look at Splinter. Instead, he turned to Donatello.

"It's too dangerous, Donnie. Maybe .. maybe if I could -"

Donnie balked. "If you could.. do it in my place, then you would."

"Yes."

"Because I can't," Donnie finished flatly.

Leo straightened from where he'd been leaning against the wall next to the fridge. "It's not like that, Donatello. It's about safety."

Donnie grimaced, turning his head away from Leo as the elder of the two approached him. "You think I'll fail. You think I can't fool Shredder."

Leonardo straightened to his full height. "I think it isn't worth the risk."

"Why _not?_"

Leo's eyes flashed. "Because you're my brother and you're worth more to me than some retro-mutagen, that's why!" he growled, startling April into taking a step back. Mikey subtly reached forward and pulled her further away from the arguing brothers. Donatello huffed quietly, his eyes turning upwards for a moment before he settled his gaze on Leo.

"Even for Karai?" he asked softly. Silence hung heavy in the air. Even Michelangelo had stopped moving, his blue eyes wide and uncertain. He looked from brother to brother, his head shrinking down closer to his shell. Leo's expression flickered shortly, but then he simply shook his head.

"We're done with this conversation," he informed Donnie, leaving the kitchen without another word.

Slowly, the other brothers shuffled out of the kitchen as well. Master Splinter, curiously silent, departed for the sanctuary of the dojo. Donatello fell back onto a bar stool, his shoulders slumped and his head tilted back. Hands absently worked at the sleeves of his dress-shirt, tie now loose and tails untucked. He pushed the cuffed sleeves up closer to his elbows, fingers idly working the folded fabric over his arms. Hands dropped to his lap when he was done, bare and mocking with tasks left undone.

A vision in black, otherwise known as April O'Neil, appeared in front of him. "Donnie," she murmured, reaching up a hand to touch his chin.

He reluctantly let her lift it, but then quickly pulled away and cast a dark glare at the corner of the room. "They really don't think I can do this," he pushed a hand through his dark hair. "They really think that little of me."

"Donatello," April said, more firmly this time. "That is not what it is."

"Leo said it himself, April. If it was him that was mutated, he'd think this was the most brilliant plan ever," Donnie pulled up a knee and dropped his arm onto it. "And yet because it's me, they think it's impossible. Like I'm so incapable next to them! If it was Raphael that had gotten mutated, Leo would let him go."

"That is not what he said and that is definitely not what they meant," April told him, her hand finding his and squeezing it tightly. "They were worried about you, Donnie. They don't want you to get hurt."

"Right," Donnie said with a soft, bitter laugh. "Because after all this time, I'm still part of the B team."

April grimaced and moved closer, her hand on his drawing out his arm until his knee dropped and she could stand closer to his spot on the stool. "D, I get it. You're willing to put your life on the line to try to help them and you think they're just laughing it off. But that's not it, Donnie. They want to protect you. Why can't you see that?"

"I understand, April, but at how am I supposed to improve, how am I supposed to take care of myself better if they never give me any of their faith or trust?" he asked desperately. "They don't see me as a fighter, April. Leo and Raph and Mikey... They don't want me to try with this Shredder because they don't think I have it in me to fool him. I mean, come on. Raph doesn't even think I'm a good enough fighter to join the Foot. What does _that _say about his opinion of me?"

April pressed, "It says that Raph gives you a hard time because that's what Raph does, and you need to stop taking it personally," she tugged on the front of his shirt whenever his attention turned away from her. "Those guys in there – they love you, Donnie. And if one of them was trying to run into Shredder's lair without so much as a t-phone to call for help, you'd be going crazy with worry. Right?"

Donnie made a face and didn't answer. April prodded him in the chest. "_Right_?"

"I guess."

"And the same goes for me. I don't want you going in there, Donnie. I mean, what would you do if I said I was going to try something that crazy?"

"Lock you in a closet."

April rolled her eyes. "Why do I feel like you're not joking?"

Donatello smirked, a hint of amusement finally touching his eyes once more. He used her hand on his to draw her closer, one knee moving up again, his foot on the bottom rung of the stool. "Because I'm not," he told her tenderly. His fingers curled over hers, the sensation of feeling her hand so similar against his own still new and exciting. He slipped his fingers between hers and curled them over her knuckles. "Though I'd probably stalk you for a few days beforehand. Maybe even cry some."

"How romantic," intoned April.

"That's me," he grinned just a little, his eyes low and thoughtful once more. April tilted her head until he could see her face again, her head sideways in a comically awkward twist. Her hair fell around her face like auburn curtains. Donnie rolled his eyes and looked away from her, but his lips twitched at a smile again.

April smiled and thumped his chest teasingly with her free hand. "Go talk to Leo, Donnie. If you really feel strongly about this, he'll listen." Donnie sighed. This was exhausting.

"Alright," he grumbled. "I'll try. Doubt it'll work, though."

"Just give it a shot," April encouraged and turned her head down to kiss his cheek. Donnie spotted the movement and turned his head, catching her lips ahead. She let out a tiny squeak of shock but didn't pull away. When he felt her press back into the kiss, he used their joined hands to draw her closer. They parted quietly after only a moment more, April's eyes wide. Then she swatted at his chest, her lips parted.

"Donatello!" she scolded, her cheeks flushed. Donnie grinned, particularly when he noticed the smile that threatened to creep into April's expression, try as she might to hide it.

"Whoops," he said unconvincingly, not bothering to hide his ownsmile as he slid off the bar stool and exited the room, leaving a red-faced April behind.

* * *

He found Leo in the dojo. Go figure.

The leader of their clan was meditating, posture careful and rigid from his spot in the center of the floor. Donnie crossed the carpet, feet now bare and settled cautiously in front of Leonardo. He remained quiet for several moments. Leo made no motion to speak either, even though Donnie knew he was aware of his presence.

"Leonardo," Donnie shifted, mind grappling for the strings of confidence he'd felt earlier. "I know what you said earlier.. and I know why you said it." He sighed. "But …"

"But you still think it could work," Leo cracked open an eye.

"Yes," Donnie said emphatically. "I do. Why won't you give me a chance?"

The blue-clad brother opened both eyes and relaxed his hands. He studied Donnie silently for a long moment, and to the lanky scientist, it felt like a critical inspection, one designed to look for system flaws. Leo's fingers turned and settled on his kneepads. Leo spoke at last, "This shouldn't be a matter of pride, Donnie."

A low rumble sounded in Donnie's chest, something akin to a growl. "It isn't _my_ pride that's creating the issue here."

Leo looked briefly surprised. "Do you think that's what I'm trying to do? Keep you down out of arrogance?" he frowned. "I'd like to think you know me better than that, Don." The growl bubbled and then went away like a whisper.

Donnie shifted his gaze away, a bit shamed. "Okay, so maybe... this is about more than creating the retro-mutagen. Maybe I do want to prove something. But most importantly," he looked earnestly to his brother. "I want finish Shredder. To get Karai back, for Master Splinter... and you. To do what we've been training our whole lives to do – keep our family safe. All of them." Their gazes locked. "I know this isn't a safe bet, Leo. But I _can _do this. And we will never, ever have an opportunity like this again. I might as well make the best of it."

Leonardo's shoulders heaved in a deep sigh, his eyes turning away to focus on the dojo door. Their conversation briefly gave way to contemplative silence. "You're really willing to do this? To go to Shredder's lair, alone, and work as a Foot soldier?"

No hesitation. Donatello nodded.

Leonardo shifted off the floor and paced to the end of the dojo where the tree stood. He reached out and touched the bark, and then his hands curled into a tight fist. He looked over his shoulder, back over at Donnie.

"You're gonna need a cover."

* * *

"This is total crap." Raphael leaned against the Shellraiser with a grunt. "Every time _I_ want to blow something up, you always say it's _toooo dangerous._"

Leonardo shot his brother a Look while Donatello made the last minute adjustments to their ride. "The difference is that this actually has a purpose, Raph," Donnie told him dryly.

"The desire to see stuff blow up is most definitely a purpose," countered Raph as they all hopped into the converted subway car.

Mikey popped up behind him. "Destructing things is a purpose, too." A wise nod.

"Everyone be quiet and get into your positions," Leo ordered. "We should hear back from April any minute now." As if on cue, April's voice piped up over their walkie talkies.

"Okay, guys. I see them – Tiger Claw, Rahzar, the whole motley crew. They're tangling with some of Karai's accidental mutations on 23rd Avenue." A pause, garbled noises in the background. "And they are making a mess of things. You guys better get down here fast." Donnie shifted the Shellraiser into drive and sped them into the dark New York City street.

"We got it from here. Take cover, April." Leo severed the connection to the walkie and moved into Donnie's usual seat. "Remember the plan, guys. We'll only have one good chance at this." The others nodded from their various stations, eyes narrowed. As they approached 23rd Avenue, the racket from the fighting grew louder. A car alarm sounded in the distance and something definitely made contact with a warehouse wall, echoing thuds and pedestrian screams drawing the turtles closer to the chaos with every passing second. Around a corner, the mutant battlefield came into full view.

Donnie swung the Shellraiser to a stop, his hands tight on the steering wheel. He didn't want to admit it, but he kind of felt like vomiting.

"Let's move, turtles!" Leo commanded, the door opening with a _ding ding _and the others jumping out. Leo paused at the door and looked back to Donatello, who remained inside. "You got this, bro."

Donnie shot the leader an appreciative smile and flashed him a thumb's up. "Be careful out there."

One firm nod and Leo was out the door, pounding the pavement up the street to the fight. Donnie took a deep breath and glanced himself just once in the mirror. He couldn't let Shredder's goons see him or this whole thing would be forfeit. But they had to know he was in the van or this wasn't going to work, so Donatello shifted it into drive again and blazed up and down the street, firing wildly at Rahzar and Tiger Claw with all the ammunition they'd managed to scour.

"Leo, top left!" he called over the Shellraiser's megaphone. The leader in blue turned a sharp left and hopped twice, one over a car and then straight over a hellish looking mutant, his katana coming down with a hard slice on its shoulder. An inhuman shriek rattled the streets, and Donnie barely managed to swing the Shellraiser out of the way. It was hard as hell to drive without someone watching the screens, but he couldn't draw back the blinds that covered the windows yet. He couldn't risk being seen.

The van whipped around and drove in the opposite direction, but it jolted suddenly when a heavy weight crashed on top. "Ah!" Donnie shrieked, swinging the wheel to the side and nearly tipping the vehicle over. The weight thudded and then dropped, crashing onto the hood and then bouncing off the street. Donnie peeked out between the blinders. A thousand curses, mostly ones he'd heard from Raphael, sounded through his mind. Tiger Claw was gaining his footing once more, his fierce feline face alight with fury.

"Come out, turtle!" he snarled, racing at the front again. Donnie hurriedly smashed the weapons buttons and a blast of flame erupted from the top of the Shellraiser, causing TigerClaw to jump aside to avoid it. Donnie gritted his teeth and slammed the stick shift forward again, the Shellraiser lurching into drive once more. He swerved around TigerClaw and zoomed down the street, the chaotic fight still raging behind them. TigerClaw was hot on his trail, but Donnie had the distance he needed. The vehicle swung around, facing the battle once more.

Then Donatello gunned it, praying his modifications would work. He needed speed.

TigerClaw leaped, his claws catching the side of the Shellraiser and emitting a horrible shriek. He might have managed to stay on, but Donatello gripped the steering wheel tighter and slammed it to the left suddenly, smashing the feline mutant into the brick wall of a shop. TigerClaw shouted and crashed to the street, bouncing several time before collapsing into an unconscious mess in the middle of the pavement. Donnie smirked. Stupid cat and his laser guns.

The Shellraiser was gaining serious speed and Donnie did nothing to slow it. Up ahead, his brothers fought and shouted, jumping over cars and barely avoiding getting side-swiped by Rahzar's mean swing. Donnie took a deep breath and gassed it. Over the intercom, he shouted the cue words to his brothers. "I'm coming, guys!"

He shoved the speaker away and then reached down, switching on the last of the boosters. Right as he pressed the last button, he began a mental countdown.

"Ten... nine..." he jumped up from his seat and scrambled to the back, even as the Shellraiser kept rolling towards the mess of wrecked vehicles and building refuse that littered the streets around the mutant fight. "... eight... seven..." There it was, the Stealth Bike. His ticket out. Donnie reached for the switch to lower the bike, but it simply gave an indignant whirr and stuck. Donnie's eyes widened. He smashed it again with a hand, but the lever was jammed. The bike wasn't coming out. "Six.."

"Uh oh," he looked up, watching as the blinders in the front of the Shellraiser peeled away to offer a view of the macabre scene up ahead. The one he was about to meet up with – _intimately. _"Drop, you stupid thing!" he exclaimed, fighting tooth and nail against the lever for the bike. His breath caught in his chest as he realized what was going to happen when the ticking time bomb known as the Shellraiser finally ran out of road.

_Five... _

Donnie whirled in a wild circle, his eyes wide.

_Four... _

There has to be an escape, one without being seen -

_Three.. _

"AH-HA!" Donnie threw his entire weight against the weapon's door. It dropped open, revealing the side-guns they sometimes used.

_Two... _

Donnie bolted out of the opening, curling behind the protective screen of the weapon's door and then – _smash – _he tumbled out of the vehicle and into the darkness of an alleyway just as the Shellraiser raced off without him, the weapons door sliding automatically back into place as if it had never opened. Donnie whipped around and peeked around the corner of the building just in time to see the Shellraiser make contact with one of the overturned vehicles in the center of the street. His brothers darted away just in time, leaving a surprised Rahzar and a dozen Foot ninjas to watch as the vehicle smashed into the wreckage and then turn, back over front, in a wide arc overhead. A loud mechanical groan pierced the air as it flipped, barely touching the pavement before it rocked the street in a deafening blast. A plume of red hot heat jumped into the sky, briefly illuminating the dark night sky in shades of orange. The other cars around it caught fire and another exploded nearby, rattling the sewer lids and blasting the windows of a nearby shop.

The melted and mutilated Stealth Bike tumbled out to the side, finally dislodged and enveloped in its own inferno.

"NO!" Leonardo shouted, his blue eyes wide with terror. He rushed forward, ignoring Shredder's henchmen as they gathered as close to the blazing heat as they dared. The brothers cried out and raced for the van, leaping over mechanical carnage and scalded metal.

Raphael slid to a stop next to the Stealth Bike and began ripping away at the broken pieces, his expression stricken. "He's not here, Leo!" The others moved to the bike, frantic and shouting. TigerClaw snarled and gestured to the Foot Clan. They dropped back and away, disappearing into shadows and corners. Rahzar and TigerClaw also disappeared, a little worse for wear than they had inteded. Any of the mutants Karai had unintentionally created were gone or dead.

Donnie watched as Shredder's henchmen departed, a fantastic sense of triumph flaring up in his chest. Moments later, he hurried between the buildings leading up to the Shellraiser wreckage and then stealthily clambered up a fire escape. His distraught brothers had backed into an alleyway, their horrified stares still on the blazing fire ahead.

Donnie slipped his legs between some rungs and settled comfortably on the fire escape, his arms propped up on a railing. He waited just a tiny moment before speaking.

"Enjoy the fireworks?"

Three bewildered faces snapped around to face him. "Donnie!" Mikey shouted, his face lighting up. Within seconds, the four brothers – though they no longer looked quite so related – were locked up in a tight embrace.

"The hell, man! We thought you got toasted," Raphael thwapped his brother affectionately on the shoulder.

Donnie grinned. "The Stealth Bike got stuck. I guess we did a better job of convincing them I'm dead than I thought, huh?"

"Yeah, no kidding," Leo huffed. "Let's not ever do that again."

"Yeah," Donnie agreed, sending a forlorn look to the street. "Especially considering that I had to destroy my precious baby to do it." He kicked his legs through the air.

An arm shot around his shoulders and Mikey hugged him close. "It's okay, bro. When you spend hours and hours and hours and _hours_ building a _new_ Shellraiser, I'll be right there the whole time, whispering my ideas to you and helping you paint a Tur-Fly-Tle on the front. And below that, it will say... " A long pause, in which the three eldest brothers held their breaths in anticipation. "... Buzz Buzz," finished Mikey ominously.

The other three stared. "_No, Mikey_."

* * *

"So you're serious about this?"

Donatello glanced up from where he was bent over a microscope, his eyes flickering around the lab once before landing on April. "You're going to have to be more specific," he told her plaintively before returning to his work. A hand at his shoulder had him sitting back roughly in his rolling desk chair.

"You know what I mean," April said crossly. "You're really going into Shredder's lair. Alone. To work for the freaking Foot!"

"I told you I was," Donnie sighed. "Why are you so surprised?"

"I don't know," groaned the redhead, leaning a hip against his lab table. "I guess it's just one thing to talk about it and another to watch it happen. Plus, I had an awful dream last night."

"You and me, both."

April ignored him. "In my dream, you were like – all suited up and mean looking. You looked -" she paused. "I don't know. Scary. Dangerous." A shrug lifted her shoulders. "It was totally weird."

Donnie turned to her and offered a sympathetic smile, a classic Donnie the Turtle expression that now looked a bit more normal on his human features. "You're freaked out. It's okay. I am, too. But this is definitely happening and we both need to just.. try to relax." Right. Relax. He was having a total panic attack on the inside, but he couldn't let April know that. Donnie turned back to his microscope. "I plan on making this worth my time, April." He paused. "If for no other reason than because stupid Shredder ruined our one and only dinner together," he informed her with a dismayed look.

As expected, April rolled her eyes. Sinking down in a chair next to him, she dropped her chin into her hand. "You know, we don't have to go to a fancy restaurant for a date, Donnie."

Donnie's gaze ticked up and scanned April's face. He straightened in his chair and turned to face her, eyebrows lifted. "Really?"

April grinned at him. "Really."

Donnie's eyes turned skyward as he rolled that thought around in his mind. "So does that mean... maybe after all this is over, we can... go on a second one? A date, I mean."

April pursed her lips and scooted her chair forward. Her small hands took one of his and held it for a moment. "It means..." she said slowly, a flush coloring her cheeks. "... get through this alive and we'll talk about it." A smile touched Donnie's face, a delirious sort of happiness trickling through his chest. He reached up with a free hand and tugged down a pair of over-sized goggles onto his face.

"Good enough for me."

* * *

"Master Shredder."

The gruff voice belonging to his second-in-command echoed in the sanctuary-turned-base. Scarred eyes lifted to the feline assassin, a large hand obscuring an aged photograph in his palm. "Have you located Karai?" Curt and to the point.

TigerClaw shook his head, whiskers twitching. "No, Master. But we do have news for you concerning the turtles." A soft clinking of metal signaled the careful, concise movements of Oroku Saki as he took a seat in the foreboding single chair. His fingers curled at the ends of the rests as he waited for TigerClaw to speak. "The purple turtle called Donatello is dead, Master."

The armored ninja master remained unnaturally still. "You are sure of this?"

"Yes, Master." TigerClaw looked up from where he stooped before the scarred human man. "I saw it for myself. His brothers were wild with anguish. We would have stayed to finish them off while they were distracted, but the human law enforcement officials were arriving."

"This is good news," said Shredder. "Splinter and his wayward disciples will continue to suffer while we search for my daughter." Outside the converted sanctuary, sirens blared in the distance, as they often did. TigerClaw waited for further instruction, and when none came, he rose and left with a respectful bow.

Now alone, Oroku Saki shifted his fingers until the photograph was visible once more.

* * *

"_Weak. All of you are weak!" __Oroku Saki rose from the dojo floor, his eyes fierce as he turned to the cluster of so-called ninjas. "You disgrace me. Continue your training elsewhere, so I am not forced to look at you."_

_A swift turn led him out of the dojo and out into the courtyard of his home. Stars twinkled overhead, only the bright moon and its companions offering light to the night fallen country side. The air had a low chill to it, and it was bracing against the dried sweat that layered his arms and legs. Those incompetent fools, he thought with a growl. To think he had to re-build the Foot clan with such menial offerings. Just the thought was offensive. _

_Stepping into the opposite side of the home, Oroku Saki found himself indoors once again. This time, he turned and headed down the hallway towards his own rooms. He paused when he saw a light peering out from underneath a sliding door and his mismatched eyes narrowed. _

_What was that fool girl doing awake this late? _

_He stepped forward, silent motions offering no warning of his arrival. He paused just outside the door when he heard whispers from within, the tiny voice rattling off sentences with the type of speed only toddlers could muster. _

"_... and then I saw that school again, the one down by the river. There are lots of kids there, lots and I wanted to play with them, but my Sensei said I could not and I had to stay here. I asked Father again, and he said no, I had to stay here with my tutor and no school for me. But it's okay, because he gave me this doll and see – she has a pretty kimono! I want a kimono like this, but Father says I have to wait till I'm big and I'm not big yet -"_

_Who on earth was she talking to? A heated fear speared his heart and Oroku Saki thrust open the door. _

"_Karai!" _

_The toddler gasped and turned, her hands immediately darting behind her back. Saki entered the room, his eyes moving around the bedroom suspiciously. He turned to the little girl. "Who were you talking to?" _

"_No one," she responded quickly, her arms still tucked behind her. _

"_Let me see your hand," he said, advancing another step. Karai sheepishly extended her left hand, which held her doll. _

_Saki barely contained a frustrated growl. "The other, Karai." __Slowly, with a face already threatening to crumple into tears, the tentative four year old held out her other hand. In it was an overturned photograph, cut down the middle. Oroku Saki knew what was on the other side even before he turned it in his fingertips. A long, heavy pause between the man and the little girl. He spoke with a great deal of effort._

"_Do you know who this is?" _

_Karai didn't hesitate. "It's my mother," she told him with a nod. She shifted on her bed, rustling her covers and standing to her full tiny height to peer at the photo in his hand. "Isn't she beautiful?" _

_The photo trembled. "Yes," came his gruff reply._

_He wondered where she got it. Then again, Karai was always into things. It was no surprise she'd found it, probably interred in a box somewhere. One day, he would carry it with him, but not yet. Four years later, the wound was still too fresh to look at daily. It had stayed hidden away until now, and the truth of the photo's nature remained buried with it. _

"_Are you going to take it away from me?" asked Karai tearfully, her bottom lip already trembling. _

_Scarred eyes lifted to the little girl's face, even as his fingers turned the photo in his hands. A thick swallow was his only physical admission of his discomfort, his despair. After a quiet moment of internal deliberation, he extended the photo to her. "No. You may keep it." _

"_Oh, thank you!" she cried out, taking the photo and dropping back onto her bed. She clutched it to her chest in a deep hug before settling it on her nightstand, propped up so that she could look at it longingly from her spot on the low bed. "Good night, mother." Her eyes gleamed. Then she looked at Oroku Saki and smiled. _

"_Good night, father." _

"_Good night, Karai." He left the room without a second glance, pausing only to shut off the last of the light. _

* * *

Author's Note: God, sometimes I hurt my own feelings when I write.


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Notes: Man, I love the reviews for this story. Gets me totally pumped. Let's do this.

* * *

_In the sewers, thunderstorms sounded like the crumbling of Mount Olympus._

_The pounding rain on the pavement above, the groan of the subway rails as they stretched and contracted in the misty air. The rush of water and sewage that swept the passageways like an angry flood from God. The sheer amount of noise that made it as far as the turtle's lair was staggering. _

_It nearly covered the sound of a timid knock at Raphael's door. _

_He peeked up, eyes barely topping the frayed edges of his blanket. The tiny turtle quickly re-situated it before the door opened, careful to disguise his shameful fear. Several feet above their home, lightning pierced the air and thunder followed like a shadow. _"_C- Come in," Raphael managed, his voice a little squeakier than he would have liked._

_A head popped inside, red eyes framed in purple. A flashlight shone on his face, illuminating his expression in the otherwise dark room. _

"_Hey," the lanky little turtle said to his brother, grinning his gap-toothed grin. "Can I come in?" _

_Raphael grunted, shrugging one shoulder and trying to keep the comfort of his blanket tight around him. Donatello entered, shutting the door behind him. The noise was lost to the den overhead. He quickly shuffled across the floor, flashlight bobbing, and then he jumped onto Raphael's bed and sat on his knees next to his brother. _"_I made you something," Donnie said, dropping the flashlight to the side and unfurling his fingers like a mystic unveiling a spell. _

_"What is that?" Raph tilted his head. As he watched, his brother scooted to the wall and found an empty wall socket. After a moment of fumbling, he pushed in the little device. To Raphael's great surprise, it lit up and cast a warm, comforting glow on the ceiling. It was in the shape of a sun, varying rays jutting out of the center in a classic shape._

"_It's a nightlight," Donatello explained in his childish voice. _

_"I don't need that. I'm not afraid," Raph muttered, his eyes downcast._

_ Donnie shrugged. "I thought, maybe, you might like it in your room. It's good for rain." He nodded certainly. "Because it helps you remember that one day, it's gonna stop, and then the sun will be shining again." __The two brothers peered up at the dim outline now decorating the ceiling. It was easy to imagine, Raphael thought. What it might be like to lie outside and look at the sun high in the sky. Rain continued to pour outside and the noise had hardly lessened, but the fear that had paralyzed him before had now receded to the back of his mind._

_He looked back at Donnie, who was still watching the sun shape. _

"_I like it," he told Donatello truthfully. He scooted closer until they were shoulder to shoulder. "Thanks. You're a really good brother." Thunder crashed outside and the both of them jumped in unison. _

_"Whoo! I wish I could watch the storm. I bet it's neat," Donnie murmured in awe. _

"_I'd rather watch the sun," Raphael said, blinking back up at the shape. A tiny tremble gave away his true feelings on the storm, but Donnie didn't mention it. Instead, he shifted until both he and Raphael were propped up against the pillows, looking up at the nightlight's beacon. _

"_I know you're not scared," Donnie peered over at his brother. "But I am. Can I stay here?" _

_At the tender age of seven, they both knew a lie when they heard one. Even so, Raphael shrugged. "I guess. I mean, if ya' really really need to. I could protect ya. I'm strong." _

"_Yeah," Donnie rolled onto his side and stuck his tongue out at him. "But I'm better at darts." _

_Raphael faced him in turn. "I can carry more books," he grinned. _

"_I can balance better." _

"_I'm the fastest eater." _

"_I can put ten Cheerio's on my tongue." _

"_I can put my whole fist in my mouth!" _

_And on and on it went, until the two of them fell asleep under the sun._

* * *

"Dude, that is so freakin' metal."

Donatello wasn't sure that he had ever thought himself capable of impressing Casey Jones, but apparently today was the day. And not that he'd ever thought about it, but the whole thing _was _pretty cool. If it worked. "You'd be like a double agent," Casey reclined on the turtle's couch and put his hands behind his head. "You need your own tv show."

"Wouldn't that ruin the whole 'secret' part?" asked Raphael wryly, dropping down onto a beanbag chair.

Donnie shrugged from his spot on the other end of the couch. "Either way, I'm not doing this being it's.. 'metal'," he rolled his eyes. "I'm hoping this will be our chance to get what we need to cure Karai. But that means I can't be seen in public with you anymore, Casey. They know who you are. If they see us talking..."

"Right, right." Casey snorted. "Too bad. I was actually starting to make some real progress on your manliness levels. Guess we can pick it up again later."

April appeared and dropped into the couch in between the two seemingly human teenagers. "Actually, if everything goes according to plan, Donnie will be changed back into a turtle when this is all over," she pointed out. She met Donnie's gaze and smiled. "Then he won't ever have to complain about wearing pants ever again!"

Donnie flushed and made a face at her.

"It's okay, dude." Casey straightened and stretched. "I don't like wearing pants, either."

"No thanks for the info, Casey." Raphael tossed a pillow at him. April giggled, rising from her spot and slipping into the kitchen. Donnie spent a few more minutes listening to Casey and Raphael banter back and forth before he rose to follow her. He found her quite like he had expected – seated on a stool, knees bunched up and hands working aggressively over the top of a peanut butter jar. The image was simple, silly and something he mentally cataloged away to keep forever.

Without a word, he gently took the jar from her, opened the lid and then returned it. April shot him an appreciative smile and began spreading it on a piece of bread. "So tonight, huh." The smile faded a little as she spoke.

Donnie took a seat across from her and nodded. "Yep." April's blue eyes remained on the bread slice, her fingers slowly tightening the lid back onto the jar. She set it aside with a soft thud, her gaze still low. She opened her mouth to speak, but she closed it again with a soft grunt of dismay.

"It'll work," Donnie told her from across the counter. "I promise."

"Maybe," April agreed lightly. She looked back up at him. "But at what price?"

* * *

The night air was cold and wet.

Donatello stood just outside of what had once been an old chapel, now converted to more sinister purposes. His brothers had come with him only so far. Now, as he stood and curled his arms around his thin frame, he desperately missed them at his side. They were somewhere out there, in the pockets of darkness created by New York City lighting. He couldn't see them, but they waited. And just knowing that was enough. Donnie turned to look at the ominous building once more and took in a deep breath.

"I love you, April," he murmured to himself, eyes closing in a silent prayer. Then, without another wayward glance, he disappeared inside.

* * *

It had been months.

_Months _since his daughter had been mutated, his family's inheritance and honor maimed by the abduction of his chosen progeny. Damn Hamato Yoshi. Damn those turtles of his. And damn the fools he called his servants.

"Master Shredder."

Saki's gaze lifted, the opaque nature of his damaged eye making it no less dark than before. His Second in Command had entered the room and taken a brief bow. Now he stood before him, one hand at his side while the other was twisted behind him. As Saki turned to face him, TigerClaw jerked on the hand behind his back.

A young man tumbled into view, stumbling just once and then finding his footing. He was slim, perhaps older than Karai but not by much, with familiar Asian features and jet black hair. He was dwarfed by the vastness of the room and TigerClaw's bulk at his side did him no favors. However, when the young man straightened, his gaze held no trepidation. Instead, his eyes immediately settled on Saki's face with a sort of indifferent bemusement. He said nothing, though he did push back his shoulders and slide his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He wore non-descript clothing, his collared shirt black in color and no other ornaments or features to speak of.

Perhaps most curious of all was his complete lack of concern at being dragged around by a mutant cat.

_Well_, Oroku Saki thought to himself. _We will have to rectify that. _

"TigerClaw," he turned to his Second. "Why do you bring me this child?"

"We caught him sneaking into the base, Master." TigerClaw said disdainfully, whiskers twitching with irritation. "When we questioned him, he.. suggested... we bring him to you. Obviously, he has a great desire for punishment." The boy remained silent, occasionally glancing over at TigerClaw with a skeptical brow.

Saki stepped away from his chair, his arms behind the back of his armor. "Is that so?" A few steps closer to the boy and his eyes ticked over him thoughtfully. "Tell me, boy. Why did you infiltrate my lair?"

Red eyes lifted to Saki's, and again, that hint of strange amusement. "To see if I could," was his nonchalant answer.

Saki growled softly, his head tilting to the side, helmet clinking. "And it would seem that you could not."

"Well," replied the young man, unmoving as Oroku Saki circled him. "I wouldn't say _that_."

Saki stopped, his eyes turning to TigerClaw, who was now fidgeting uncomfortably. "How far did he get?" The tiger mutant's whiskers twitched again, and when he seemed reluctant to answer, Saki advanced on him with a single menacing step.

"The third lower level," TigerClaw told him gruffly.

Saki's eyebrows shot up. "That is nearly to the lab," he snarled. "He got that far before you found him?"

"It.. would seem so, yes sir. But we _did_ catch him -"

"Silence!" Saki turned from the mutant and back to the young man, who's lips quirked at something he suspected might have been a smirk. Without warning, he slammed a hand onto the youth's shoulder and forced him to his knees. To his credit, the boy only winced a bit. When Saki released him, he stayed in a kneeling position, his eyes low but no less determined. "You, boy. You are on very dangerous ground." Saki prowled the space around the kneeling boy. "Do you know who I am?"

"No."

"I am Oroku Saki, head of the legendary Foot clan."

"Ah," the young man said to the ground, peeking up with an almost exaggerated squint. "I've heard of you. Well, your clan anyway." He paused, and then went on - "You know, you don't exactly keep a low profile around here. For ninjas, I mean."

Saki stopped in front of him. To his side, TigerClaw hissed. "Are you mocking me, boy?"

"No," the boy answered slowly, tilting his head a little. His eyes were on the floor once more, but Saki could still see the defiance there. It radiated from his posture, even as he knelt before him. A caricature of obedience. "On the contrary," the young man continued. "I find your clan very … interesting. It's part of the reason I came here."

"Is that so?"

Suddenly, TigerClaw stepped forward.

"Master Shredder," he growled. "I _recognize_ this boy."

As Saki watched, Tiger Claw stepped over the boy and cast him a scornful look. The human in question tensed just a bit, his head tilting in TigerClaw's direction. "Do you now?" Saki asked, raising a brow under the protective hood of his helmet.

"Yes," TigerClaw snorted. "He appeared from a restaurant in town while Rahzar and I were fighting the turtles in the streets. He was curious to see the battle."

"I see," Saki looked back to the boy, who glanced up at him and raised both brows.

"That was me," he admitted wryly. Casting a dark glance at TigerClaw, he added - "And thanks for ruining my date, by the way."

Saki almost laughed. Almost. TigerClaw, on the other hand, seemed to have reached the end of his tether.. "This boy is too bold!" he roared to Saki, though he took a careful step back at the resulting glare.

Saki folded his arms. "Perhaps _boldness_ is what we need, TigerClaw," he move around the young man again. "After all, you and your ilk have had no success in finding my daughter. You bring me new and fantastic failures with each passing day and offer them like worthless gifts." He stopped in front of the boy. "Tell me, boy. Do you wish to join the noble Foot clan?"

The young man seemed to pause, as if in thought. Then he nodded. "Yes," he said lightly, and now he knelt with one hand balancing on the ground next to a down turned knee. The other propped up a slim arm, his gaze straight and forward.

"And why is that?" asked Saki.

"To travel the world and meet new people of course," was the boy's reply, a smirk dancing at his lips even as he kept his gaze low. The instant _clink _of Saki's arm blades next to his neck pressed away the amusement in the boy's face. He tensed appropiately, just enough to satisfy Saki, who waited to pull away until the boy gave a more satisfactory answer. "... Until just a few weeks ago, I attended a local university. But I left, because I grew bored with it," the mysterious young man said, his eyes on the wall in front of him at first, then slowly drifting up to Saki. "The so-called professors, the self-named scientists of the academic world – they all subscribe to a notion of morals and ethics that I have no interest in. I don't want to spend the rest of my life sequestered away in a mundane laboratory, trying to cure the common cold."

The teen drew in a deep breath, and when he exhaled, his eyes were wide and alight with excitement. "I want to be apart of something more... _powerful._"

Saki absorbed this, his mind carefully turning over the young man's words. "What is your name?"

"Higurashi Hisoka," the young man said smoothly.

"_Nihon-jin_?"

"Second generation," he replied.

"And what is it that you studied, boy?"

"Bio-chemical engineering," he answered, and then his smirk returned. "But I won't lie, I dabble in everything. Electronics, auto mechanics..." he waved a hand dismissively. "Anything I can put together or … blow apart."

"And what of.. genetics?" asked Saki, a feral sort of heat building in his chest. Could this truly be possible? Could his salvation be in this curious, smart-mouthed teenager? To his surprise, the young man looked directly up at him and then stood to his full-height.

The young man's face lit up. "You mean those mutants we've been seeing all over the streets?" he grinned. "I could handle any of that... I can build them up or break them down. Give me the tools and you'll have anything and everything you need." Eyes flashed with excitement, his head tilted high. "I can be anything you need me to be."

Saki moved to his chair and settled into it thoughtfully, ignoring TigerClaw's glaring disapproval from the side. "And what of ninjutsu? Do you know if it?"

"No," the boy – _Hisoka_ \- answered. "But I could be taught, if necessary."

"It _is_ necessary," Saki informed him. "I will no longer bear having such useless fighters as Baxter Stockman working for me. TigerClaw will train you. He will make you into a suitable representative of my clan. You will share a lab with my scientist, Stockman. He will brief you on your objective. Is that clear?"

A disconcerting smile, even by Oroku Saki's standards, crossed the young man's face.

"Crystal."

* * *

If Raphael didn't know any better, he might think that April was standing at the door to the dojo – again – and staring at Donnie like a lovesick puppy. Again. And okay, maybe she'd only just been stopped at the door for all of five seconds, waiting for Donnie to come out, but the temptation to give her a hard time was just too much.

"Seriously, April. What're you, an alleycat?"

He jumped up and folded his arms to avoid April's swat. She was so predictable. "Shut up, I was just going to ask him a question about my science homework before I left for the night," she made a face at him, one arm tucked over a Biology textbook.

"You could always ask me!" Mikey piped up from beside him, where he was joined by a skeptical looking Leonardo.

"I think she actually wants to _pass_ the assignment, Mikey."

"Oh. That makes sense, I guess."

"April's starin' at Donnie again," Raphael jabbed a finger in the direction of the dojo. Inside, Donnie was sparring with one of their wooden dummies, bo staff snapping against the target every few moments, unaware of his audience just outside the door.

"I was NOT!" This time, April reached forward and popped Raphael with the strap of his belt. He yelped and nearly fell over, inciting a round of laughter from Mikey and Leo.

"You know April," Leo leaned against the back of the couch. "One day you're going to get a _real _boyfriend, and he's going to have to meet our high standard of approval."

"Uh, _what_?" April shot a slack-jawed glare at the blue turtle.

Raphael nodded in agreement and snickered. "We're gonna have to stalk him for a few days, you know. Maybe even beat him up a little, make sure he can take it."

"Hit him with water balloons to test his reflexes!" Mikey put in.

"Question his chivalry, put him through a series of challenges," Leo added, arms folded over his chest.

April blinked. "How did this conversation even – I – what?" Both of her arms flew up in exasperation, her cheeks flushed. The guys snickered. "Okay, totally done with this conversation, thanks for the fun time, guys." She moved to step away to the lair door, but she paused just once more to peer over her shoulder at the sliver of open doorway that gave her a glance of Donnie training inside. He'd returned from Shredder's lair in one piece. It was a miracle. Now, now she could afford to let herself hope – just a tiny bit – that all of this might work.

The guys were watching him, too. Mikey let out a low whistle. "Man, he's really improved a lot since he first got changed. He's looking totally fierce in there!"

April shifted her book in her arms and moved up between the turtles again, all eyes on Donnie. "That's what you guys don't get," she told them with no small amount of satisfaction.

"What?" Leo asked, raising a brow at her.

April watched Donnie, her eyes following his sure, strong movements with the bo staff. "You guys keep treating him like he's weak because he's human, but it was the retro-mutagen that made him that way. He's no less a mutant now than he was before."

"So? What does that mean?" Raphael asked.

"It means," April said, turning to leave once more. "That you guys have _no_ _idea_ what he's capable of."

* * *

Raphael passed the dojo again nearly an hour later, and he was surprised to hear grunts and thwacks from inside. Was Donnie still in there? The red turtle stepped over an empty pizza box and stopped at the door, his silhouette hidden in the quiet dark just outside the entrance.

Inside, Donatello was still working away at the target, his staff crashing into it repeatedly with staggering force. Sweat beaded his bare chest, and even from where he stood, Raphael could see blood dripping from where his brother was gripping the bo staff. It littered the floor around Donnie's bare feet and smeared on his heels.

Over and over again, Raphael watched Donnie bring the staff against the target with increasing force. Whatever was going on inside his brother's head had him raging at the mannequin, and finally, he let loose a deep yell and slammed the staff at the target's base.

The weapon split and shattered, raining splinters and bits of leather to the ornate rugs underfoot. Only a few inches of wood remained in Donnie's trembling hands. Raphael watched, his own eyes wide, as Donnie turned a fearful look down to his battered hands and then dropped the remains of the bo staff. It fell soundlessly to the carpeted floor and rolled away, disappearing under a shelf.

A strangled sob was the last thing Raphael heard before he turned away, his eyes wide and his chest heavy.

* * *

Author's Note: Forgive me for the shortness. I just had to get this chapter out.


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note: Aaaand here we go. :) Some Shredder action, April conversations and … more. Thanks for the love, you guys! You are fantastic readers and I am loving every minute of it.

Song suggestion! "Find You," Zedd. Love it, always makes me think of Apriltello.

We'll start out with a Leo/April scene. I friend-ship them so hard it's ridiculous.

* * *

"Hey Leo, you busy?"

April paused in the doorway of Leo's bedroom, a place she had so far had no reason to enter. She wouldn't have even bothered him, but his door had been wide-open and he was standing near the entrance, a comic book in hand like he was about to leave. But she didn't want to risk being overheard, so when he shook his head in answer to her question, she slipped inside and shut the door behind her.

Leo raised a brow ridge. "You okay?" he asked, tilting his head.

April laughed. "Yeah, I'm – I just wanted to talk to you about something and I didn't want Mikey or Raph popping up somewhere."

"Ah," Leo leaned against the aged dresser next to his bed, making April wonder momentarily what on earth he could have stored in there. She considered herself close with all the turtles, but out of the four, Leonardo remained the most mysterious. How and why he had opened up so immediately to Karai was still beyond her understanding. Even his bedroom was strange, like a generic setting (if a sewer bedroom could ever be such a thing) but with missing pieces, like something obvious had left gaps in the scenery. He had a few personal effects lying around – he'd removed his katana and had them sitting next to his bed – and some pictures, as well as his books and a single incense burner he must use for private meditation. He also had some Space Heroes memorabilia, though that was limited. Everything else was a lesson in order that had no rightful place in a teenage boy's bedroom.

April smiled inwardly. Just like Leo.

She took a seat on the edge of his bed. Unlike his brothers, Leo didn't have any other seating in his room. "Okay, so I want to ask you a question and you need to be totally honest, got it?"

Leo held her gaze and nodded, his blue eyes focused. "I'm all ears."

"Okay," April took a deep breath, her freckles crinkling. A pause, and then - "Do you think I'm shallow?"

Leo blinked at her and then glanced sideways at his blank wall. To her surprise, his face took on an apprehensive, uncertain look. "Is this about Donnie?" he asked, shifting into a standing position again and turning a sympathetic wince to his friend. "Because April, I'm your friend and I care about you, but I would rather..." a long pause. "... take a shower with _Master Splinter..._than have this conversation with you."

A gasp and April hopped to her feet, switching into full-on pouting mode. "Oh, come on, Leo! How many people can I talk about this to?"

"Anyone else," he pleaded.

"That's so unfair. I listen to you when you want to talk!"

"Really? Because I seem to remember you slamming a window in my face the last time I had an issue like this -"

"Oh, please. That was one time." April rolled her eyes. "And it was three AM!"

"I didn't know friendship had a bedtime," said Leo wryly, smirking and turning away from her. April's hand jumped to his arm and she wiggled her way in front of him, her blue eyes wide and teary in a totally fake way - not unlike Mikey's post-pizza sob ("_Noo – o-o-o-, it's all gone!_").

"Leooooo!" April gripped his hands in hers and turned on her best, most absolutely adorable sad face.

Leo rolled his eyes. "Okay, look. I'll make this quick." He put his hands on his friend's shoulders. "It's okay if you find... certain attributes more attractive than others. You were raised in a human society with human interests and it just sort of.." he shrugged, his expression pained and deeply uncomfortable. "... happens like that. It's okay -"

"But that's the thing," April huffed, her eyes downcast as she fell into deep thought. "I was attracted to him _before." _

Now it was Leo's turn to stop and stare. "Wh – Really?" he asked incredulously.

April's eyes widened and her cheeks disappeared under a blanket of red. "I – Well, I just -"

To her surprise, Leonardo actually laughed outloud. "Wow," he said thoughtfully. "Hm. Guess Raph owes me some money then."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Pay attention, Leo! I need your genius focus right now," April poked him in the shoulder.

"I don't understand. What's bothering you?" Leo asked gently, leaning on his wall again.

April sighed and pushed some hair away from her still flaming cheeks. "I don't know! I mean, I – Okay, yeah. I liked him before. But it just always seemed like the wrong time and place and just too awkward and so much effort to deal with him and Casey at the same time. But lately, ever since the accident, he's just been so... " she paused. " .. forward." Her blush returned tenfold. "I mean, it's kinda nice. It takes the pressure off me, ya know? Like... something about his personality is changing and I don't know why, but it's making him act different. More confident, maybe... but there's something else there. Something I don't really get."

Leo's expression grew thoughtful once more. After studying her for a moment, he tilted his head at her.

"He hasn't done anything to make you feel uncomfortable, has he?"

April blinked, briefly caught off guard. She started to answer immediately, but then paused, carefully going over the various feelings she'd gotten over the last few weeks, the unusual vibes she'd picked up on when she was around Donnie. They were subtle, but she spent a lot of time around him, even before. She knew something had changed, the same way someone who worked outside could test the wind against their face and sense an approaching storm.

"No," she answered confidently. "He's the same old Donnie. Just wants to make me laugh and be silly."

Leo relaxed a little and the motion made April smile. She shifted on the edge of his bed and rested an arm on an upraised knee. "He did totally snake a kiss from me, though."

If Leo looked surprised before, it was nothing compared to the shock evident on his features now. "Really?" he asked, and this time he laughed a little. "Wow." He looked impressed.

"I know!" April exclaimed, leaning forward eagerly. "Isn't that weird?"

"Mm," Leo folded his arms. "Weird that he'd actually turtle up and do it? Sure. Weird that he would _want _to? Not so much."

April laughed and wondered if the burning in her cheeks would ever go away. She scratched at her red hot neck and then took in a deep breath. "Well, either way. I just – needed to get that off my chest. I'm afraid for him going in with Shredder and I just.. wanted to make sure I'm not reading everything all wrong." She made a face. "And Raph's stupid teasing is not making things any better."

"It rarely does," was Leo's only consolation.

* * *

To say that Baxter Stockman's new lab was elaborate might have been the understatement of the century.

As Donatello moved through the various underground rooms leading to his new area, he noted every entrance, both locked and otherwise. Where the supplies were kept, even things as mundane as cleaning schedules. What formations the Foot soldiers used as they passed by, faceless in their uniformity. What types of locks were used by TigerClaw and the others, and whether or not he thought he had a chance of decoding them. TigerClaw hadn't been lying when he'd said Donnie had reached far below the actual lair before being caught – and to be honest, the only reason he'd been given away at all was because he had grown relaxed and lazy at the lack of a challenge.

What a joke. And Shredder thought he had a fortress.

Stockman's irritated buzzing alerted Donnie and TigerClaw to his presence long before the fly mutant came into view. As the two of them stepped into full-view of the lab, Donnie didn't bother to repress a flinch. Stockman was absolutely disgusting, and even if he hadn't been such a repulsive creature before his mutation, his current appearance was enough to incite hostility and distrust in any who met him.

Apparently, TigerClaw felt much the same way, because he twitched his nose and growled softly before approaching the mutated scientist. "Stockman," his deep voice echoed in the lab, only mildly registering in Donnie's mind. He was in the midst of a scientific orgasm, for lack of better word.

This place was enormous. And so well-equipped, with top of the line computer systems, a wall lined with nothing but chemicals solutions of every kind, and a massive store of mutagen that Donnie positively ached for. Oh, yes. This place was going to be his greatest triumph.

"What izzzzzz this?" Stockman hovered near them, the rapid beating of his wings adding yet another distasteful noise to his peculiar personal soundtrack. Donnie looked back at the would-be scientist and raised a brow, glancing over at TigerClaw to watch as the tiger mutant snorted.

"This is your newest colleague, Stockman. His name is Hisoka."

"Colleague?" the mutant snarled, darting around Donnie and hissing unpleasantly. "I do not need a child to help me in my own lab!"

"Apparently you do," Donnie spoke up, stepping away from the other two mutants and setting his eyes on a complicated machine in front of him. His eyes danced in the reflection of the many illuminated screens, all of which surrounded the area from floor to ceiling. Something gurgled in the background, a Bunsen burner steamed. There was even a distant _click pop click _of something being printed on heavy paper off to the side, the ever present thrum of coolers containing temperature-sensitive materials in the corner.

His eyes moved to the computer screen in front of him, a bunch of nonsense to someone without any knowledge of the material. However, Stockman zipped over to him and slammed down a hand on the keyboard, smashing away the data and locking up the computer screen. Donnie turned to him, his eyes narrowed. "That'ssssss not for you to see, boy!"

"Stockman," TigerClaw snapped from the side, his voice low. "Master Shredder has commanded you to work with this boy in order to create the retro-mutagen necessary to help his daughter. I would advise you to follow his orders, given that his mercy with you may very well be nearing its end."

Stockman shrieked indignantly and whirled to face Donnie again, who only responded with a slight smirk. Then he turned back to the same computer.

"Don't bother," Stockman grunted with his inhuman mouth. "There is nothing in this lab that you can accessssssss without my direct passcodesss..."

Donnie placed his hands on the keyboard, fingers spread, and for just a moment he allowed himself to re-live the memory of April O'Neil teaching him how to type. Once that peaceful thought had settled into his mind, he went to work, hands flying over the keyboard with speed and certainty. TigerClaw watched curiously from the side.

In moments, other screens in the lab began to blink to life, shuttering into view and then rolling rapidly as data poured over its screens. Donnie continued to work, his red eyes focused and the speed of his sure fingers only increasing. He barely registered Stockman's furious yelp as the last of the computers whirred to life in front of him.

Donnie straightened, cast a sidelong glance at Stockman and then shook his head.

"You..." he said with a point at the infuriated mutant. "... ought to stick to your day job." He paused. "Not that you were any good at that, either."

* * *

He spent the first few days of his time as a Foot ninja working in the lab, though Stockman's presence certainly did more to hinder than to help. The fly mutant had done much more work on his own DNA than anything else, and while he could explain away this to Shredder as an effort to help Karai, Donnie knew better. If nothing else, it was evident by now that a retro-mutagen was a case-by-case situation. Something that might have worked before on one human may not work on another mutated creature, and this made the going much more difficult.

He tried in vain to explain this to Stockman, and then later to Shredder, but they were having none of it. Stockman wanted his own cure above all else and would do anything to get it. Shredder wanted his results and he didn't care what major impediments stood in the way. He didn't want to hear what he termed excuses, even though they were perfectly valid.

Well, Donnie thought. I guess that leaves this all up to me. Go figure.

But at least he had the lay of the lab now, and for hours each day, he labored over Automatic Plasmoid Isolation Systems, high-powered microscopes and page and page of tiny print on data readouts. It was fascinating, exhilarating to be able to use such advanced equipment, but it was almost too overwhelming. Some of it he didn't even know how to use, and it took two days of tinkering before he managed to figure out some of the larger components. Not that it seemed to matter. What with Baxter being as useless one day as he was the next, he didn't have to worry about the mutated scientist beating him to the punch, so to speak.

God, why had Shredder even kept that irritating creature alive? He was vile.

Fortunately, he was also easy enough to ignore most days. Well, easy enough for someone who was very used to drowning out the racket of three brothers, of all of whom seemed perfectly at ease tossing around delicate Kraang equipment like a dodgeball or skateboarding into a massive pile of cardboard boxes for the thrill of it. How the four of them had managed to survive this far was truly beyond comprehension.

"Hisoka!"

Donnie's head snapped up, and he briefly burned the tips of his fingers on the edge of a red-hot beaker. "Ow!" Donnie sucked on the tip of his index finger and mentally scolded himself for not wearing gloves. Across the lab, Stockman snickered maliciously. "At least I still have fingers," taunted Donnie as he moved away from his station. Stockman hissed and muttered in response.

At the door, the skeletal dog mutant known as Rahzar stood, his massive jaws clicking impatiently. "With me, boy." Donnie followed warily.

Down the long, dimly lit corridor they walked, Donnie moving behind Rahzar and, as usual, taking the opportunity to check out his surroundings. They headed in a direction he had never gone before, and as he rounded the corner, he saw why – it was a large, sprawling training room, outfitted with walls of weapons and Foot ninja uniforms.

It was a shock to his senses, particularly since the other ninjas were not in their uniforms, but instead in sparring clothes. To see their faces – how many human ninjas did Shredder actually have left, he wondered – was something of a discomfort to Donnie. It was easier to think of them as faceless demons, or even better, the FootBots they often tangled with in the streets. Shredder must have been recruiting more heavily as of late. He didn't blame him. Automated servants could only be counted on for so much.

For some reason, the thought made him remember Metal Head with a wistful sigh.

"Hisoka," Rahzar stepped forward and shoved a bag into his hands. "Change into these. Your ninjutsu training begins now."

Donnie's eyes widened. "But I'm in the middle of something -"

"Now!" the other mutant growled, shoving him by the shoulder. Donnie reeled in his nerves and changed out of his jeans and t-shirt, shrugging on the form-fitting black shirt and pants that the others trained in. When he re-emerged, he fought the urge to swallow. He had been wanting to avoid this for as long as possible. He had to be very, very careful not to appear too skilled to attract attention, but also not hopeless enough to warrant punishment.

He had told Shredder he knew nothing of ninjutsu, and he had better look it. His only consolation was that his brothers were not here to witness what would inevitably be a terrible, shameful showing. "Foot ninja! Assemble!" Rahzar snarled in a command that had the others scrambling for position. Donnie eyed the line and then glanced at Rahzar, who pushed him once more, this time in the direction of the others. "Get in your place. And pay attention."

Donnie did as he was told and quickly found himself as one of many, standing in a row of blank-faced soldiers. No, that wasn't entirely true. Some of them looked wary, others tired, and more than a few were afraid. They still managed to school their expressions back into indifference as Rahzar surveyed them, walking the length of the line and then pointing out two young men no older than Casey.

"Places. Now!"

The two Foot soldiers hurried forward and took their positions in the center of the mat. Rahzar made a motion to the row of ninjas still standing to the side, and they dropped to the floor in unison, knees bent. All except Donnie, who stood awkwardly for a moment before he finally caught on and followed their example.

As soon as he was settled, Rahzar rounded the two ninjas and then stepped off to the side.

"_Hajime_!"

Donnie barely fought the instinctive urge to jump up at the familiar command, instead forcing himself to stay still as the combatants sprang into actions. They jabbed, kicked and grappled, using no weapons and instead sticking exclusively to hand to hand combat. They moved well enough, Donnie supposed, but it was obvious – in his opinion – that they'd only been training for a few years at the most. Mikey could have bested these guys using about forty percent of his attention span, which was only ten percent more than he afforded to everything else.

Still, they were doing a pretty decent job on each other, evenly matched as they were. One kick landed on the other's ribs and then followed with an elbow jab that made Donnie wince. He could hear the wheezing from the shorter of the two, who was currently losing. Donnie glanced at Rahzar, expecting him to stop the fight when it became more heated. That was what Master Splinter always did.

But he didn't. Instead, the two went on and on, until they were both red in the face and heaving. Still, the fight continued, each hit knocking louder and more harshly than the last in an effort to end the brutal fight. Finally, the taller combatant reached up a leg and kicked the smaller square in the chest, sending him to the floor with a pained thud.

Donnie grimaced. Ow.

The "winner" turned to Rahzar and bowed stiffly, his own wince evident. However, rather than dismissing him, Rahzar stepped up on the mat. A few of the black-clad Foot still in line edged away as the mutant walked around the floored combatant. Then he turned to the victor.

"Did I say you were done?"

The taller of the two glanced at Rahzar uncertainly. "He's on the ground," he pointed out with a wary glance at the other. Rahzar's great snout twitched in displeasure. The other trainee was moving, his body protesting loudly as he tried to pull himself up to a sitting position. Unfortunately for him, that movement was arrested with a single great swipe from Rahzar.

A shriek pierced the training room as a splatter of blood splashed across the mat. The boy fell to the mat with a cry, his hands over the deep scratch marks that extended from cheek to cheek. He rolled onto his stomach with a sob. Donnie barely kept his eyes straight-forward, the effort not to turn away in disgust threatening to double him over.

"We are strength. We are discipline. We are _above all others." _

Moving around the injured young man without so much as a glance in his direction, the mutant dog turned a dangerous gaze on them all.

"If you cannot give your blood to this dojo..." he eyed the line of them, finally coming to rest on Donnie, who lifted his gaze to match Rahzar's with a tight jaw. " …. then you are unworthy of Master Shredder's elite clan."

* * *

"... so then I figured out I was sitting on a peppermint wrapper."

April grinned at Donnie's raucous laughter. "Really? You thought something was under your bed the whole time and it was just you sitting on-top of a crinkley wrapper?"

"Yep," April popped the P at the end of the word emphatically and then joined his laughter. "I was eight, okay? It was totally scary."

"Mmhm," Donnie reached over and took a piece of cotton candy off the top of April's treat. She made a face at him. "You said you didn't want any!"

"I didn't," he dropped some of the fluffy spun sugar into his mouth with a smirk. April responded by taking an entire handful and shoving it into her mouth, and if it had been anything more substantial, she would have choked on it for her laughter. Donnie doubled over, pausing to lean on a park bench near the pier. "That's very lady-like," he commended her with a grin. "Nice job."

April pressed away the last of the sticky sugar from her lips and shrugged.

"I'm just a natural." The warm wind picked up around them and whipped April's loose hair around her face. She'd worn it down for their evening out, even though she'd played it off when Donnie had complimented her on it, telling him she wore it like this all the time, didn't he ever realize? Which was a total lie, but whatever.

The two of them finished off the cotton candy and then left the pier, hand-in-hand. "Guess I should be getting you home," said Donnie reluctantly as they moved black into the familiar streets once more.

April tugged lightly on his hand. "Hey, we'll see each other tomorrow."

"I don't know," Donnie sighed. "I may be at the lab with Stockman all night."

April frowned. Tonight was the first night in a week she'd even gotten a glimpse of him. It was necessary, she knew, but still more disheartening than she cared to admit. She squeezed his hand and offered him a smile. "Do what you need to do. I'll be here whenever you get back."

The smile shared between them made her heart flutter in her chest, and when Donnie moved the hand in hers to a spot around her waist, she barely contained a girlish squeal. _Get it together, April. _Still, nothing could slow the racing of her heart as they walked side by side in the late evening air. The usual city sounds echoed around them, but April's side of town was traditionally a bit calmer and less deafening. Still, a few minutes of walking in silence had her on edge.

Her apprehension was, as usual, not unfounded.

"Give me your money," hissed a grating voice behind them. April and Donnie stopped in unison and turned to face a scruffy mugger, his eyes beady and moving with the unnatural motions of someone under the heavy influence of drugs. He was a grown man, bigger than Donnie but unsteady on his feet, and he was wielding a rather large, unsavory looking knife. A pistol also sat on the edge of one scraggly hip, though he had yet to pull it out. Picking the wallets off of two small teenagers hardly warranted something so noisy and attention-grabbing, April mused.

Tilting her head uncertainly to look at Donnie, she watched as his expression shifted from surprise to something else – a deeply set annoyance, bordering on something a bit more aggressive. He stepped forward, around April, his eyes narrowed on the mugger. "Leave," he told the man, the single syllable coming out in a low tone she'd never heard him use before.

April bit her lip, her eyes jumping between Donnie and the mugger. The gruff man snorted and stepped forward with a garbled curse. "Listen to me ya' little punk, I said -" he lashed out with the knife, but his movement was stopped in mid-motion when Donnie kicked up one long leg, smashing a kick into the assailant's weapon hand. And then, in one fluid motion, he turned the speed of the kick into a full swivel that snapped the man's jaw and sent him flying into the air. Donnie caught the knife in mid-air and followed to the man's rough descent to the hard cement sidewalk.

Within seconds, Donnie had his knee buried between the man's shoulder blades and an arm locked around his neck. The blade found its way to the owner's throat and pressed there as Donnie freed a hand to release the gun at his side. With a venomous glare at the back of the man's head, which was now dotted with blood, he tossed the gun into the nearby gutter.

The man opened his mouth to protest, but Donnie shoved it into the loose gravel of the sidewalk with a flick of his wrist. The man groaned in pain. April watched from her spot a few feet away, her eyes wide and her heart pounding. The mugger hadn't frightened her so much – she had gotten mugged many times in New York, and had found that most of the would disappear as soon as they got what they wanted. It was the brutality of the situation, the roughness with which Donnie had thrown him down.

_This guy could have hurt us, _April told herself. _Donnie's just protecting me. _

Still, Donnie didn't rise from where he had the man pressed into the ground, so she stepped forward and pressed a gentle touch to his arm. He glanced up at her and blinked, looking like he'd forgotten she was there at all.

"It's okay. He's not going to hurt anyone now," she reassured him with a shaky smile. Donnie glanced down at the attacker again and sighed, his body relaxing just a little. He moved away the man with a shove and tossed the knife into an alleyway dumpster.

When the man finally managed to get back on his feet, April grabbed Donnie's hand to pull him away. He paused, though, taking a moment to look back at the mugger. His face was set in a hard array of jagged lines she'd never seen before.

"You should find something more meaningful to do with your life," Donatello told the human man, his voice too airy to be natural. "Before someone decides you don't deserve one."

* * *

After dropping her off at her apartment, Donnie re-traced his steps back to where the mugger had attacked them. He was long gone, of course. Donnie didn't blame him, though he did wonder if he would come back to reclaim his lost teeth. Some of them still lay scattered in the crevice of the sidewalk.

Pausing to glance around, Donnie stepped over to the dumpster and reached in, rooting around until his fingers brushed the cool steel of the knife. He pulled it out and examined it, his fingertip pressing to the top curiously. A droplet of scarlet escaped his finger and moved lazily down the edge of the blade.

He smeared the blood between his index and thumb fingers curiously. Then he pocketed the knife and set off at a languid pace, his lips pursed in a whistling tune.

* * *

Donatello was exhausted.

Between his time in Stockman's lab, his training with Rahzar, his work at home with his brothers and his desperate attempts at spending time with April, he was running on fumes. So it was no surprise when, after a particularly unsuccessful dojo session at home, he found himself on edge.

He'd secretly repaired his bo staff to use for training, but something about it felt off.

Now, after moving unskillfully about in his home dojo for the last two hours, he was frustrated and weary. Leaning against the weight of his bo staff, Donnie studied the lone tree in their arm for a moment of quiet reflection.

"Hey there Jimmy Neutron," a swift kick from Raph knocked his bo staff out from under Donnie's grip and nearly sent him tumbling to the ground. It was something he had done a thousand times – sometimes Raphael caught him or helped him up, sometimes he didn't – but today, a fury in Donnie flared up a chemical explosion. He righted himself and turned slowly to face his brother, who only snickered in response. "So what's goin' on at the Foot base?" asked his brother conversationally. "They teach you any new baton tricks?" In the corner of the room, Mikey sniggered along with his brother.

Donnie glanced at the youngest turtle briefly before turning to settle his look back on Raphael.

Then, without even a moment's hesitation, he spun the bo staff in his hand and cut Raphael harshly at the backs of his legs. The full strength of the hit sent Raphael crashing to his shell, his eyes crossing momentarily as the impact rattled the floor of the dojo.

Donnie set his jaw tightly. "Maybe," he said stiffly. "And perhaps if you weren't such a _troglodyte_, I'd share them with you."

It took Raphael a full dazed minute to pull himself into a sitting position, but it was only when Mikey hurried over to help his brother up that Donnie felt himself blink out of his haze of anger. The orange banded brother frowned up at him, his blue eyes drawn with concern. "Seemed a little harsh, bro," he said with a nervous laugh. Then his frown returned and he helped Raphael stand.

Donnie's fingers loosened and a curious twisting in his chest had him dropping his bo staff and rushing to Raphael's side. "I'm – I'm sorry. You're right, that was – I don't know what came over me." Raphael pushed both of them aside with a grunt.

"Get over it, ya babies. I'm fine." He brushed himself off casually, though his movements were tense and jerky. He and Donatello met gazes for just a moment and then he shrugged. "Nice hit," he commended his brother, but his tone was still off and when he exited the dojo, it was without another look back.

When he was alone once more, Donnie picked up his staff with a trembling hand and lightly knocked himself in the head. "What is _wrong _with you...?"

* * *

_Back in the land of shadows and grey walls. Only now, as Donatello watched in horror, each of the walls split and crumbled away. With their defeat came a new wall of heat and fury, building up into an inferno that threatened to engulf him. Donnie turned and ran, his body seizing with fear, but he tried and tried and tried... running as swiftly as he could, his knees knocking together painfully._

_He reached the end of one path just as it fell and gave way, and beneath it, he could only see a raging wave of reds, oranges and yellows. He jerked away and reached out, but where there had once been a cool grey wall was now nothing but a wave of flickering heat. _

_Fire. _

_He was on fire._

This time, when Donnie jerked awake with a scream, no one came rushing to his room.


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Note: We're getting to the exciting stuff, guys! You know. Slowly but surely. ;)

* * *

"Leo! I have a visual!"

"Where is she, Donnie? Fast!"

Fingers clicked across a keyboard in a rhythm so rapid it sounded more like a hum. "The corner of Main street, across from the old Purple Dragon place!" he told his brother in a rush. Leonardo only gave a brief affirmative before the communication was momentarily severed, T-Phone tucked into his belt and feet pushing off the rooftop, sending him tumbling down into a soundless roll.

In moments, he was joined by Raphael to his left and Mikey to his right. The youngest brother pointed. "I see her, Leo! She's attacking some people in front of the antique shop!" Leo cursed quietly and put on an extra burst of speed, his head low and his eyes blazing.

He dropped down to the street just in time to see a Foot ninja go flying past, and when he turned to follow the movement, he saw it wasn't a bot, but a person – or, at least, it had been. Now it was a jumbled mess of misplaced bones and stomach-turning leaks. Leo's gaze snapped back to the street at a loud, menacing hiss.

Several feet away, a series of heavy mechanical clinks alerted Leo to the presence of Metalhead 2.0. Not nearly as able-minded as its predecessor, this one operated with Donnie as its eyes and ears from deep within the lair. It raised an arm cannon, prepared to take down the mutated snake that had once been Karai if necessary.

"No no!" Leo waved an arm at the machine, even as the serpentine mutant advanced on him, not a hint of recognition in its countenance. Raphael and Mikey dropped down next to him, weapons brandished even as they stood still, awaiting Leo's order.

"Karai.." Leo stepped forward cautiously, his hands free of blades. "Please, just... stop and talk to me for a minute."

"Leo," Raphael interrupted, his eyes sharp. "More Foot -"

"Take care of them."

"But Leo -"

"Take care of them!" Leo rounded on them. "I don't care what you have to do. Just keep them away." The brothers nodded in unison and darted to the end of the street. Karai hissed half-heartedly as they passed her, but made no attempt to attack. Instead, she looked back at Leo with a flick of her tongue and slithered ever closer. Behind the two mutants, chaos reigned. More Foot, both metal and flesh, were scrambling over debris and bodies to try and reach Karai. MetalHead turned on them with blasters the size of actual cannons.

Leo glanced uncertainly at the battle and then turned back to Karai, only to find her inches from his face. His eyes widened, but he forced himself past the fear.

"Karai... Please, I know it's hard, but listen to me.. You have to come with us. We can help you."

The clamor from the battle faded to the back of his mind and he stepped forward, extending a hand to her. The mutant jerked back, eyes flashing and for a moment, Leo thought she might attack. But he didn't remove his hand and it took only one more step forward to brush it over her snout and turn her face gently to look at him.

There – There it was. She knew him, Leo thought wildly. A thought confirmed when, with great effort, Karai leaned into his touch and closed her eyes. "Leeoo..."

"Just come with us, Karai. You'll be -"

An explosion rocked the asphalt beneath them, spooking Karai into snapping her face away and hissing in the direction of the battle. TigerClaw and the others had joined the battle and now Leo had no choice but to join his brothers. He turned back to face Karai, his blue eyes wide.

"Just – Just go to the lair if you can -"

But it was too late. The moment was broken and Karai's next motion was to snap at him and then slither away. When Fishface attempted to stop her, she caught him between her jars and hurled him into the nearest building. Leo watched as the mutated teenager lurched back, as if in pain. An inhuman shriek escaped her, a terrible, heart-wrenching scream of both pain and fear that had her throwing herself into vehicles and buildings with incoherent, guttural noises.

"Karai, stop!" Leo pleaded, but it was no use. Every time she moved, it was to slam into an unyielding surface, as if she might beat the cruel mutagen out of body. When six Foot soldiers made it through the rabble and jumped on her in an attempt to get her to the ground, Leo let out a shout and rushed forward in a rage, cutting them down without a single moment's thought to whether they were robot or human.

Karai escaped their clutches and cried out, her eyes feral. Finally, without so much as a glance in her savior's direction, she disappeared around a corner. Leo gripped his katana with trembling hands and the next unlucky Foot soldier to cross his path became an example in how quick deaths can be just as unpleasant as slow ones.

"... Leo?"

He turned swiftly to face his brothers. TigerClaw and the others had disappeared. Authorities were blazing their way down the street. "We gotta go, bro." Raphael nudged Leo lightly in the shoulder. He looked up at the night sky, where stars twinkled on, unaware or uncaring of the conflict below.

"We gotta go."

* * *

Donatello spent the rest of the night pouring over his notes on Karai's mutation.

"She's becoming more... manic," he murmured lowly to April. He frowned at the data in front of him, his fingers curling over the dry sheets. They rubbed unpleasantly against the newly formed calluses on his human fingers. "I don't know if it's the mutagen or the serpent DNA, but she's definitely less aware than she was just a few weeks ago."

April leaned her head in her hand, a matching frown on her face.

"Do you think she'll continue to get worse?"

"Almost certainly," Donnie tossed down the papers and turned to face her. "I mean, think about it. Most of the people we've seen get mutated were already aggressive, already willing to hurt people to get what they want. But others?" He shrugged. "Like your dad, for example. Sure, he didn't hurt you, but after he was mutated, he had no problem attacking other people. And if he'd been allowed to continue as a mutant, who knows what might've happened? He could have lost his memories of you completely."

Donnie eyed his beakers thoughtfully. "Right now, Leo is the only one she recognizes. He says she spoke to him tonight. That means she still has time." He rubbed his eyes. "But how long? I have no idea."

April hummed. "What about your work at Stockman's lab? You've been there for a few weeks. Have you made any progress?" she asked, twirling a pencil in her fingers.

"Well yeah," Donnie leaned back in his chair. "But not as quickly as I'd like, of course. It took me forever to make that first batch of retro-mutagen. And thanks to that moron Stockman, this is taking twice as long." Stepping away from his seat, Donnie moved around April with a thoughtful touch to her arm. She turned to follow his movement and snatched his fingers.

"You'll get it," she told him confidently.

Donnie's lips quirked a little. "I hope so," he replied quietly, sighing deeply in his chest, even as he squeezed her fingers and pulled her closer. And then, just as he had done a hundred times before his accident, he stooped low enough to put his forehead on her shoulder. With his eyes shut and the world around him dark, it was easy enough to allow himself to slip into a moment of peace.

When he pulled his head up once more, April reached up to brush a thumb over his jaw thoughtfully. At first he thought she might kiss him, and when she pulled back her hand, his eyes were instantly drawn to her lips.

Until she stuck her finger in her mouth and then pressed it into his ear. "Wet willy!"

"ACK! April!"

"Ah-haha!" April dashed off, leaving Donnie to blink out of his haze of confusion – and then take off after her.

* * *

It was a few nights later when it happened.

It was inevitable. He knew, as soon as he entered Shredder's lair and effectively caught his attention, that he would be investigated, for lack of better word. With every passing day, he brought more and more work to Shredder's attention. Sure, he didn't have the retro-mutagen yet, but plenty of his work provided for the Foot clan. He'd created better mutagen trackers for them using the insanely advanced equipment in Stockman's lab, as well as a more potent, controllable version of the original mutagen. Most of these had been by-products of his actual research – every new failure was a discovery in disguise, after all – but Shredder was relatively pleased with them nonetheless.

His training was a different story. He'd thought to force himself to look unskilled in the dojo, but honestly, he didn't need to fake it as much as he'd thought. The style being taught was so altogether different from what he had beaten into his body years ago that it felt like a new art form altogether. He had tried various weapons, but as he'd learned when he'd made an effort to get familiar with his brother's artillery, he was useless at most of them.

There had been staff-like weapons at Shredder's dojo, but he had steered clear of them, only using a few in during brief, bumbling exercises to reiterate his ineptitude.

Stepping into the warm summer night lifted some of the heaviness in his chest. Donnie moved off the sidewalk, his hands in his jeans and his eyes raking over the city streets with the sort of keen awareness that was bred from his lifestyle. There was no such thing as an "empty" New York City street, so even as the hour was very late, people milled around him in business as usual.

Even so, he picked up the movements darting around the shadows behind him. The telltale signals that accompanied a sleuthing stalker. Someone was following him from Shredder's lair and it wasn't one of his brothers. In fact, it wasn't one of anything. It was several.

Donnie kept walking, occasionally nodding to people as he passed. He kept pace, but didn't hurry, even as his mind anxiously turned over his alternatives. Obviously, he couldn't go back to the lair. If these spooks were Foot bots like he thought, they were waiting to see where he was heading.

April and Casey's places were both out of the question, too. Shredder knew them.

Just as he was beginning to truly panic, a memory struck him like a lightning bolt. Grinning at his own stroke of brilliance (he really ought to remember to pat himself on the back more often), Donnie changed direction and skipped over the edge of a sidewalk to cross the street. He passed a few shops, some of which were still open with a dim white light and bored looking store clerk. Other stores and their accompanying stands stood empty, bare of both product and salesperson. A scantily clad woman with a great deal of smeared lipstick gave Donnie a seductive smile as he passed, prompting him to wave lightly before continuing on.

He stepped into the area known as China Town, which sat just above the subterranean lair. But it wasn't the lair he was heading towards. Donnie paused in the street, looking both ways as if to check for traffic. In reality, he was double-checking to make sure he was in the right place. Then he hopped down from the curb and passed in front of Murakami's restaurant, only to jet across the road to a lopsided building that housed three small apartments. Donnie paused at the door to the bottom floor and beat his pockets as if he were looking for something. Then, with a shrug, he stood on his tiptoes and pulled a spare key from the top of the frame. He used it to open the front door and then entered with ease.

One inside, he shut the door – and collapsed against it with relief.

A quick glance at the windows revealed a bit of moonlight sliding through the shades of heavy blinds. Donnie rushed forward and straightened them, further pulling down curtains and securing them. A quick search around the apartment confirmed he was alone.

After several moments of fumbling, Donnie found a candle and a match, and a few minutes later, he had the small apartment lit well enough to navigate. Sinking onto the low bed with a deep sigh, Donnie glanced up and around.

Murakami-san, the kindly old Japanese man who owned their favorite restaurant, had left a few days ago for a trip back to his home country to visit family. Donnie wasn't exactly sure how long he would be gone, but obviously it was for a while, because he'd temporarily closed his restaurant and asked April, his trusted friend and customer, to water his plants and feed his cat. She'd mentioned it to Donnie just yesterday, and thank _god _he'd been paying attention instead of staring at her mouth like he'd been doing only seconds before.

Unfortunately, Murakami-san – what with being blind and all – didn't have a single light in the entire place, all the sockets bare of bulbs and the walls equally blank. Everything else in the apartment was simple and plain, or indicative of his homeland. A screen bearing a scene of Japanese countryside separated his floor-level bed from the rest of the rest of the studio apartment, his couch and radio the only other two distinct items in the living room area. He did have a kitchen bursting with strange instruments and tools, though, which Donnie didn't find surprising.

Everything else was shelves of cookbooks – mostly in Braille – or his dozens of plants. A tall bamboo plant was the most prominent, sitting next to his bed and looming over the pillow with dark green leaves. Several small herbs dotted the counterspace, filling the area with an unusual blend of not unpleasant smells.

Something brushed Donnie's leg and he jumped, expecting a Foot soldier. The "soldier" in question meowed at him, blinking yellow eyes and then curling in his legs again. Donnie exhaled and fell over on the bed. Now that his heart had stopped pounding, he may as well rest.

It wasn't safe to go back to the lair just yet.

* * *

He chanced it during the day.

Shredder's goons typically didn't come out in the light hours, so after taking a nap at Murakami's place and then checking for Foot ninjas, Donnie left and made his way back to the sewers. He expected his brothers to all be asleep, but when he slipped quietly into the kitchen, he saw Raphael sitting at the counter. He looked tired, but he popped out of his seat when Donnie entered.

"Dude, where have you been? We thought you were coming home hours ago."

"Sorry," Donnie dropped heavily onto a stool. Three hours had not been enough sleep. "I had some company when I left Shredder's lair last night. He had four Foot ninjas following me. I had to backtrack to Murakami's apartment."

Raphael raised a brow ridge. "Well, damn. Do you think he's on to you?"

"No, but I do think he's suspicious. Paranoid, even. He's kinda loopy," Donnie made himself a cup of coffee. "Incase you haven't noticed."

Raphael relaxed and smirked. He shrugged a shoulder, his eyes moving to the fridge. "Well, I saved ya some pizza."

"Really?" Donnie grinned a little.

"Yeah," Raph smoothed a hand over his hairless head. "And I had to put Mikey in a chokehold to keep him away from it, so you better eat it. I don't care how old or soggy it is." The two of them took seats once more at the counter, both leaning heavily on their elbows out of exhaustion. Donnie nibbled at his food. "You look like shit," Raphael observed.

Donnie glanced up from his food and blinked warily at his brother. "I haven't had a decent REM cycle in days," he admitted, tearing off a piece of crust.

Raphael waved a hand. "You never sleep good."

"Well."

"Well, what?"

"I – nevermind." Donnie smiled and sipped at his coffee.

Raphael ignored him. "You know what you should do? Take some Nyquil. That stuff'll knock you on your shell."

"How do you know?" asked Donatello. "I've never give you cough syrup before." Nor did he think Raphael would seek out medicine on his own. He was The Worst Patient in terms of personal care. Donnie had once spent an entire week chopping gummy bear vitamins into tiny, microscopic pieces and slipping it into his brother's food just to try and get _some _nutrients into him.

Raphael chuckled, "Oh, I know. But I saw on tv that it makes you sleepy, so I put some in Mikey's cereal the other day. It was the best thing ever, he just went -" Raphael slammed a hand onto the counter. "Bam! Right into his bowl."

Donnie's shoulders trembled with laughter. "Why would you do that?"

"Uh, because he talks too much?" he paused. "And because it was funny. He did almost drown, though."

Another pause and then both of them dissolved into the kind of laughter that caused stomach-aches for hours.

* * *

Michelangelo made a face.

He'd sucked, chewed and licked his way through a cherry popsicle, but now he was only left with a red-stained stick and the unhappy taste of wood in his mouth. Tossing it into the trashcan nearby, he turned on a heel and headed into the living room area. Raph was mashing away on a video game controller and trying to goad Leo into battling him, but the leader in blue was stoic from his place on the couch. He shrugged off Raphael's jabs and left the room without a word.

Mikey heard his brother sigh once before turning back to his game.

Scrunching his noise, Mikey turned to go to the kitchen – maybe he'd just eat another popsicle and feel better – when he paused at the door to Donnie's lab. Glancing around and then stepping further inside, he spotted Donatello at his table. There was a loud beeping sounding rhythmically, and he knew it was the timer from one of Donnie's burners. His brother was standing right in front of it, left hand closed around a liquid-filled beaker, but he made no motion to cut it off.

Instead, he stared, shoulders hunched and fingers tight, his expression too far away for Mikey's liking. Even as the alarm continued to sound, Donatello remained unmoving. After a few moments, Mikey realized Donnie's hands were shaking. And then -

_Pop! Crash. _

The beaker in Donnie's hand exploded, jarring him out of his stupor. Mikey frowned and edged closer to the lab door, trying to stay out of sight as he watched his brother move slowly, as if underwater, reaching over to turn off the beeping alarm and then fall still once more. He glanced numbly at the broken glass and then at his hands, jagged with small cuts. Instead of tending to them, he leaned against the table and let his gaze fall on the constant flame on his burner.

His eyes fell unnaturally still, and as Michelangelo watched, his brother reached forward – and pressed his hand into the flame.

"Dude, stop!" Mikey jumped forward and snatched his brother's hand away. For the love of god, did he have to keep everyone else sane around here? Since when was he the one trying to force logic and reason on people? This place was going insane.

It made Mikey want to cry. He pressed it back with great effort.

"What's wrong with you?" asked Mikey, his voice trembling. He led his still apathetic brother away from the flame and blindly reached for the first-aid kit. "What's wrong with everyone?" he muttered, taking out the burn cream. His brother's hand looked like the top of a dresser that had been melted by an unattended candle. It had to hurt like hell, but Donnie hadn't said a word. Something in his face reminded Mikey of that day he'd caught him "cutting his fingernails" when in fact, he'd actually just been slicing his fingers open.

After wrapping up the hand, Mikey sighed and met Donnie's blank gaze. He didn't _understand. _Donnie had been fine just a few hours ago!

"I think... I think you need some help, Donnie. You haven't seemed right lately, bro."

As Mikey spoke, Donnie pulled his injured hand away. "I'm fine," he said finally, his brows furrowed. "I don't need help."

"You do. Something's wrong with you."

Red eye narrowed into slits. "Nothing is _wrong _with me," growled Donatello.

Mikey balked at the contorted glare, his feet instinctively taking a step back. "Dude, yes, you need help. It's okay. I think.. I think your accident did something to mess you up, but..."

"Don't tell Leo," Donatello pleaded, and the swift change in tone jarred Mikey – he was almost crying, his eyes wide and teary. "Don't tell anyone, please. I'm okay. I'll figure it out."

Mikey swallowed tightly. "Please, Donnie. Just -"

"I can figure it out!" exclaimed Donnie, wrenching himself away from Mikey and stomping back to his table. "I can do it. I can do it by myself. I don't need you here, telling me that something is _wrong with me, _nothing is wrong with me."

Donnie gripped the edges of his lab table. "Nothing..." his voice dropped to a whisper. "I … I _hope_ nothing.. is wrong with me."

* * *

It was late.

Leonardo had made it last rounds in the lair, his eyes sweeping over every entrance and dark corner with practiced ease. It was really an unnecessary measure for a place as guarded as their lair, but it had become a comforting routine to him. And maybe, a tiny part of him hoped that Karai had regained enough sense to make her way back here, maybe she was just waiting out in the tunnels and needed him to come let her in.

That wasn't the case. But it was a nice thought.

He stopped by the door of the lab and peered inside. By the light of Donnie's desk lamp, he saw his seemingly human brother, slumped over on his desk – and sound asleep. Leo allowed himself a small smile. Donnie had obviously been working himself to the bone and now his exhaustion had finally caught up with him. Stepping inside the room with a silent tread, Leo crossed the room and came to stand at Donnie's desk.

His brother was curled on top of a pile of textbooks, data charts and page after page of tiny scientific text, none of which appeared atypical of the area. However, as he raked his eyes over the contents of the desk area, his lips pursed at a frown. Reaching down, he turned a heavy open text-book with a green fingertip until the text faced him.

It was a medical book, Leo noticed, one he hadn't seen before. It had long pages of jargon he didn't even hope to understand, and one lengthy paragraph in particular had obviously caught Donnie's attention, because it was highlighted and circled in thick, heavy pen. Leo didn't understand all of it, but it his brother had underlined things like _temporal lobe _and _brain damage. _On the area around the footnotes, his usually neat handwriting had melted into a scratchy, frantic scrawl.

_Fire fire fire fire fire._

_Visions? _

_Red. Red Red Red. Fire. WHY _

_Mutagen cross-reference? 2.3 – MRI? _

_WHERE IS IT? _

_No sleep! _

_Red. Red. Red. _

_Mutagen effects on the brain – why blood? _

_F – K _

Other words had been written upon a time, but they had all been scratched out with dark, heated strokes, so worn and overused that they'd bled through the other side of the glossy book page. A snapped pen rolled lazily next to the spine of the book, ink still rolling out of its broken tube. Leo's eyes slowly lifted to his brother's hands, clenched even in sleep, stained with black ink.

Leonardo dropped his eyes once more to the text. Then he slowly lifted the corner and closed it, his gaze on his sleeping brother again. With a soft weary sigh, he pushed the book away and bent his knees. Hooking one of Donnie's arms around his neck, he lifted him out of the chair and walked them both to the door.

* * *

Leonardo watched Donnie all the next day, but whatever was going on with him, he didn't show an ounce of it. Which might have had something to do with the fact that April was there with them, officially out of school for the summer and laughing playfully with his brothers as he observed them.

He didn't miss the strange hitch in Michelangelo's gaze whenever Donnie came near. Nor did he miss Raphael's careful eyes watching their brother, just as he was, as if he were waiting for the other shoe to drop. They all talked and laughed, April and Donnie most of all, but he knew his family well enough to know that something wasn't right.

"Hey, I found and fixed up a homemade ice cream maker the other day," Donnie volunteered to April. "You want to go make some ice cream?"

"Heck yeah!" she cheered, jumping up with a grin. Donnie bound after her, looking like his normal self for all the world. Raphael and Mikey hesitated only for a moment before racing off after the other two, leaving Leonardo alone in the living room.

The lone turtle leaned back in the beanbag chair, his hands idly turning over a small silver blade in his hands.

Whatever was going on, his brothers were starting to see it. But April wasn't. Donnie was hiding it from her best of all. Leonardo glanced at the blade in his fingertips and drew one careful digit down the length of it.

No, whatever was happening to Donatello had him slipping up in front of his brothers... but a different person altogether with April O'Neil.


	10. Chapter 10

Author's Note: Get ready for some action, guys! Thanks for all the reviews, follows and favs! They make my day.

Two song suggestions for this chapter, very important. First half of the chapter - "Still Here" by Digital Daggers. A lot of their songs take me back this fic, so if you're interested, check out their album The Devil Within. Needless to say, it truly fits with this story.

Later on, however, is a different story. If you want an awesome song to add as a soundtrack to Donnie's first ever fight as a Foot ninja, "Shut Em Down" by Celldweller is my pick. This song is intense... and so is the battle. Enjoy.

* * *

"Again!" barked TigerClaw, his beady black eyes never leaving the pupil known as Hisoka. Inwardly seething, Donatello readied himself once more. This time, the FootBot attack came from the left, and with no weapon to defend himself, Donnie could only roll away and hope for speed. He was no match for the bot, though – not like this. Without his bo staff in hand and still uncertain of how to distribute his weight in battle, Donnie could only barely evade the hits and do nothing to counter them. They'd been at this for weeks, with every moment he wasn't in the lab falling to this time-consuming humiliation.

This wasn't like training with his family.

The style was altogether different, reminiscent of Karai's distinctive movements but harsher and more mechanical (and not even on part of the bots). Leaning ninjutsu from TigerClaw and Rahzar was a world away from Splinter's teaching and it left Donnie at a loss. Whereas before he'd carefully cataloged all the movements, jumps, rolls and jabs from the first fifteen years of his life, he now found an insistent grating voice, berating him into something new and cold.

Watching the other students, if they could even be called as such, had chilled him to the core. It was the things they were taught – not how to evade, disarm or incapacitate – but ways to dismember, maim and kill. It was a cruel parody of the art he'd learned as a child. And he simply could not catch on, no matter how much the instructors pushed him.

Finally, TigerClaw shoved him to his knees on the mat. The other students began to trickle out, though Donnie had no idea where they went or what they did after their sadistic schooling. However, when Donnie began to rise to follow, the mutant tiger halted him with a snarl.

"You, boy. You are a disgrace."

Donnie bowed his head tensely and said nothing. It shouldn't have mattered to him what a madman like TigerClaw thought, but it did. It mattered so much it burned his soul. Because here he was, in a life parallel to his own, and still he wasn't good enough.

The mutant went on, "If it were up to me, I would leave you in that lab and never prompt you to leave. At least you are of use there," and he might have continued if not for a low, gravelly voice that interrupted.

"And yet it is not up to you, TigerClaw..."

All attention shot to the door of the dojo as the shadows formed into the figure of a person. Shredder stepped into view, his mismatched eyes settling over the pair of them. The Footbots stood nearby, absently attentive. All the other human pupils had left. Shredder stopped in front of where Donnie continued to kneel. Uncertain of what to say or do, Donnie kept in his place, his gaze low and his chest still tight with shame.

"This boy is hopeless, Master." TigerClaw sneered at Donnie from where he stood, tall and proud. Rahzar hovered nearby as well, Donnie noticed, and he seemed interested in what was going on. Donnie kept silent, though he did lift his eyes to Shredder. The two locked gazes in a shared moment of bold, brazen arrogance. Something in Shredder's countenance shifted and Donnie thought Shredder might hit him for his uselessness, maim him in exchange for the pittance of help he had been to them so far.

But he did not. Instead, he brushed TigerClaw away with a swoop of his cloak and began to round Donatello in a thoughtful way. "Rise, boy."

Donnie did so, his eyes back to the mat and shifting uncomfortably. He fought to keep still, but even as Shredder paced, the young genius was busy mapping possible escape routes if worst came about. A few minutes of silence followed before Shredder spoke again, his footsteps silent around Donnie's stationary form.

"Tell me, Hisoka. Is there someone in your life you care for? Someone above _all_ others?"

Donnie's brows furrowed at the unexpected question. What was Shredder getting at? Either way, he would be forced to respond. His first thought was his brothers – but even if he had been able to divulge that, he knew it wasn't the answer Shredder was looking for. With alarming ease, his mind shifted to a freckled face with wide blue eyes.

"Yes," answered Donnie quietly. A pause, and then, "A girl."

Shredder paused in front of him and nodded, and Donnie prepared a fake name – Shredder knew who April was, after all – but the older man never asked. Instead, he spoke a command.

"Close your eyes."

Another flicker of hesitation and then Donnie complied, his vision filling with black. The dojo had fallen quiet, with only Donnie and other masters of silence nearby to stir up a breath of noise. A weapon rack sat off the side, and during training it had rattled ominously. Now it, too, was silent.

Was Shredder trying to relax him? Donatello's mind raced with questions, but he pushed them away. When the other man spoke again, his voice was a heavy weight on Donnie's mind.

"Imagine her face in your mind's eye, boy. See her eyes. Think of her smile. Hear her laughter."

Reluctantly, Donnie let his memories of April tug at his consciousness. Once the flood of visions started, he was powerless to stop them, and the knot in his chest loosened. Behind the darkness of his cloaked vision, he saw April on the first night they'd met, walking peacefully down the street with her father and then later, her hopeful smile when he and his brothers had rescued her from the Kraang.

He saw her on the many nights she'd stayed at the lair, the cool reflection of the television screen on her sleeping face after they'd all finished a late movie. The way she lit up at a new discovery or even grew cross whenever she felt like she was being coddled too much. Her flushed face during training or the adorably annoyed expression she gave him – and only him – on the rare occasion he managed to deny her something.

All of it and more filled Donnie's heart and lifted him from the spot of darkness far below the surface of New York City, where he stood surrounded by murderers and madmen. His lips quirked a bit, his eyes still closed. Shredder must have sensed his comfort, because now he pressed on, his voice lower and more malevolent than Donnie had ever heard it.

"Now... imagine her being _ripped from your arms_."

Donnie's peace disappeared.

"Imagine her calling out for you, begging for your help as she lies _dying_. But you can do nothing.. _nothing_ to help her, nothing to save her from the pain. You can only watch as she suffers, as she blames you for not rescuing her."

Donatello tried to ward away the images, but it was too late. His worst fears had centered around April as long as they'd known each other – his horror had always stemmed from the potential for her hatred, for her refusal to accept him as the mutant he was. He had feared it in such a way that it had crippled him when the toxic fungus had shown it to him, incapacitated him in the worst way.

But this – this was more than fear. As Shredder continued, his words growing harsher and more heated, Donatello felt his heart begin to race, his palms perspire. His chest heaved, his vision growing darker beyond the veil of black. His mental vision swam with horrendous images of April, broken and bloody, body mangled and tears rolling down her cheeks. It was terrible, and his rapidfire mind conjured the very worst scenarios in a matter of seconds.

"Imagine losing her to a void of nothingness, knowing that neither you nor she can die, but must only exist to each other as the most torturous of dreams. You cannot see or speak to her again, and if you are to hear her voice, it will only be her _screams _of agony that reach you. See it in your mind's eye, boy!" his voice rose to a shout. "See the one you love suffer!"

Donnie's eyes shot open. "NO!" he shouted, and just then, he spotted a shadow of movement at his side. Without a second's thought, he wrapped his hand around the nearest weapon and brought it down blindly with a feral shout that tore from his chest and burst into his limbs.

When he next blinked, he saw the long blade of katana split down the center of a Footbot.

It blinked just once, whirring sympathetically and then fell apart to the floor, properly sliced in half by the blade that still trembled in Donnie's grip. Donatello stared, his eyes wide, his lips parted. His chest continued to thud dully against his ribs and no part of him was without tremors.

When he finally braved a look back up at the masters, he found Shredder appraising him with a look he had never seen before – he was _pleased. _

* * *

A hint of awareness dragged April O'Neil from the throes of sleep. She might've pressed it away and continued to sleep, if not for the sensation of a presence nearby. When her gaze adjusted to the semi-darkness of her bedroom, she bolted upright in her bed.

"Donnie?"

The teenage boy in question lifted his head. He was on his knees next to her bed, his hands clasped on the edge and his head bowed against them as if in prayer. He was keeping a vigil at her bedside, and she had no idea how long he'd been there. "What're you doing?" April murmured, moving to stand, but he'd stopped her with both hands, gently coaxing her back to bed.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice strangely cracked. "I didn't want to wake you." It was then that April noticed several things – for one, he was dressed in all-black, some sort of uniform she'd never seen before. Another was his expression – he looked stricken, haunted. His brows were furrowed and the corners of his eyes crinkled. He looked desperate and miserable. Like he was letting go of something.

"Donnie..." April reached up and took him by the elbow, drawing him to the bed and sweeping his mussed hair out of his face. He closed his eyes at her touch, wincing even as he followed the motion with a tilt of his head. April frowned. "What happened...?"

"Nothing."

"Liar," she reprimanded quietly. Shifting back on the bed, she tugged him fully onto the sheets. To her surprise, he didn't hesitate, only pausing to kick off his shoes and then fall onto his side beside her. When his eyes lifted to hers, she felt her heart twist.

"Please, tell me what's wrong -"

"Nothing is wrong," he whispered fiercely. He shifted closer to her, his arm moving over her waist to pull her closer. Her heart spiked at the nearness, for more reason than one, but Donnie only dropped his head to brush against hers and close his eyes. She allowed herself to relax when she realized it was only comfort he was seeking – and desperately needed. Still, he wouldn't talk, so April pulled herself up as close to him as possible and snuggled into his grip. A single fingertip reached up to brush against his jaw, a warm palm at his cheek. They remained like that for a few moments, neither speaking. And then he did.

"I love you, April."

He had re-opened his eyes and now nothing could hide the intensity behind them. "You don't have to respond," he went on, his tone lost and uncertain in that way she knew so well from before the accident. The way his voice lilted and dropped, his eyes lowered, his shoulders hunched. "I just wanted you to know."

April flushed, a soft breath escaping her as she swallowed tightly. But she knew what to say – not because she was expected to, but because it was so obvious. With a soft smile, she moved the hand on his cheek to his chest, her fingers curling against the fabric there.

"I love you too, Donnie." Her smile grew. "I love _all _of you. You're my family." She fell quiet for a moment before continuing, knowing the path of Donnie's mind, even as he kept his expression unreadable. "But..." her voice briefly caught on the words, but she continued. "... the way I … love you. It's different. From your brothers." The corners of her mouth lifted involuntarily. "It always has been."

Donnie's eyes moved over her face, the furious workings of his busy mind evident behind his dark red eyes.

She went on haltingly, "I don't know.. what to call it or... what it means." Her fingers dropped to his and she pulled their joined hands up between them. "... but I know it's special." Their fingers interlocked, and she could feel how much rougher his had gotten since his training. She leaned close.

"And just so you know... I felt that way _before _your accident."

This time, there was no disguising the series of reactions that battled over Donnie's features. Surprise. Excitement. Uncertainty. Happiness. Fear. Admiration. Love. And then, strangely enough, the fear was back. Reaching up a hand to the small of her back and keeping her close, a more intimate pose than either of them had ever been in, Donnie pressed his lips to her forehead and closed his eyes once more.

She thought she had finally relaxed him into a state of rest, but his next words were as fervent and determined as she'd ever heard them, even as he whispered them into her hair.

"... I will do _anything_... to keep you safe, April."

* * *

Over the next few weeks, Donnie began a new training regimen with TigerClaw and Rahzar. The latter seemed more incline to work with him, and at first it confused Donnie until he remembered that, as Chris Bradford, Rahzar had trained students for years. TigerClaw was more of a stand in, but Rahzar faced the potential of new talent with a sort of hunger and ferocity that Donnie had never seen before. He pushed him, taught him new moves and warped what Donnie felt like he knew about the arts.

Something inside of Donatello had clicked that day with Shredder.

Now, the old ways of Splinter's teachings felt further and further away, replaced by the gratifying pulse of the grittier techniques exercised all around him. Splinter had spent the last sixteen years teaching turtles and had formatted his lessons appropriately – Rahzar had trained humans, and he taught Donnie in the same way. As the time passed, Donnie found himself with new methods of evasion, more tactics for gaining the upper-hand in a fight. He learned how to work his muscles against larger opponents and take advantage of his slimmer, less bulky body in combat.

Whenever he wasn't in the dojo, he was in the lab.

And on the rare occasions he was in neither, he was at Murakami's, asleep or eating. Sometimes he would fight to get away to visit the lair, but those instances were becoming few and far between. Some nights, when the sunrise was only a few hours away, he would leave Shredder's lair and sneak his way into April's bedroom. She never seemed to mind when she found him in her bed, fully-clothed and curled up next to her in the exhausted sort of sleep that had him nearly comatose. Sometimes he could even feel her cool touches on his forehead through his thick sleep, brushing through his hair and stroking his cheek. Those nights, and the mornings that followed, were certainly among the best. His twilight hours were starting to blend together in one long day with only short intermissions for sleep.

One might've thought that being in such a deep state of sleep would steal away his dreams, but the images still came to him every once in a while. The first few times, he had been alone at Murakami's, but on one evening, the images of fire and melted flesh felt so real they jerked him from his sleep right next to April.

"Donnie?" The garbled murmur from his side had Donnie blinking away the horrifying feelings that plagued him. He looked down at April, barely visible under the pile of blankets she'd somehow summoned up the length of the bed and gathered around her face. Sunlight was just starting to peek over the horizon, and its warm rays cast April's bedroom in a healthy glow that did nothing for the wild beating of Donnie's heart.

"Sorry," he murmured. "Bad dream."

He started to get up then, instinct driving him to rise whenever he knew the images wouldn't fade away. He had never been able to return to sleep after being startled awake by the burning maze, but April's arm sleepily grappled at his torso – now covered by a white t-shirt – and pulled him back down. She mumbled something incoherent (April was not a morning person, Donnie had noted) and then settled her arm loosely around him when he was flush against the bed again.

He turned his head to look at the peek of April's face visible beneath her blankets, but she seemed to be asleep once again. He turned under her lax grip and pressed into the pillow.

And then he fell asleep.

* * *

"What the hell are you tinkering with now?" asked Rahzar, his unnatural eyes watching Donnie from his corner of the dojo. Donnie glanced up and then turned his gaze back down to the weapon, his eyes scanning it for the slightest hint of imperfections.

"Something special," he said vaguely. A pile of shuriken, emblazoned with the symbol of the Foot, sat off to the side, each with a distinctive glow. Donnie set aside his tools and picked up the first weapon, his current project. Turning it over in his hands, he gave it an appreciative smile. He was due back in the lab any minute – this was actually his break for a meal – but he couldn't resist admiring his work for a moment longer.

Yes. Very special indeed.

* * *

"Keep going!" Rahzar growled from the side, and when his opponent paused for breath, Donnie charged. With a sweep of his legs, Donnie snatched the balance from the other boy and sent him sprawling to the mat. A swift strike to the chest had the other ninja gasping on the floor, body curled over and strangled noises escaping him.

Donnie straightened, his mind already gladly categorizing the various moves he'd used, their success against this opponent and others of his size. What he could have done differently, what might have been more successful from an energy conservation standpoint. The physics of the fight, the momentum of the moves, all careful choices furled by a careless, reckless heat he'd never felt before.

He turned away from the struggling opponent, his mind distracted and his posture indifferent.

* * *

"Master Shredder."

Oroku Saki slowly turned to face his visitor, his second in command. He raised a brow beneath the mask of his helm, but TigerClaw sensed his question and continued on.

"I have.. suspicions. About the boy, Hisoka."

A moment of silence signaled Saki's contemplation, his hands clasping behind his back speculatively. He turned away from TigerClaw, his eyes on the vast windows that surrounded his lair.

"Then _test_ him."

* * *

"It's _hooooooooooooooooooot_," whined Michelangelo from where he dangled. He continued to swing a little, as if he hoped the breeze might help.

Raphael thwapped him on the head. "Hey, shut your shell, okay? We know it's hot. It's summertime."

Leonardo glanced up from his rooftop vigil and eyed them both. "Would you two focus, please? We're supposed to be looking for signs of Karai."

"Dude, I am melting into turtle soup up here," Mikey dropped to his feet and joined Leo at the edge of the roof, though his posture was much more relaxed than his brother's. "And you know that freaky Shredder just looooves turtle soup." He snickered and Raphael snorted in response, one hand curling into a fist.

"I dunno about soup, but I sure got him some punch whenever he wants it."

Leo rolled his eyes and turned his gaze back to the street. It _was _really hot, particularly by New York standards, but he wasn't willing to turn in just yet. Not when Karai had been spotted so nearby just a few nights ago. It was a big city, but he had hope after their last encounter. Karai had recognized him and that meant there was still time. Still a chance.

Unfortunately, when his attentive gaze caught movement in the shadows, he knew immediately it wasn't the serpentine form of Karai. Blue eye narrowed, Leonardo straightened from his crouch – only to sense movement behind him. When he whirled to face the rooftop, his brothers followed his movements half a second behind.

TigerClaw and a two dozen FootBots stood opposite of them, silent visitors with expressionless masks. On the corner of a distant rooftop, Leo's careful eyes caught the silhouettes of Rahzar and Fishface. His body tensed, but he couldn't say he was surprised. They had shown up everywhere Karai had been, just as the turtles had. But this time, no one had seen Karai. So their presence here could only mean something else. Something Leo hadn't anticipated.

Raphael and Mikey took quick, subtle steps back to Leo's side, their eyes on the enemies, weapons drawn. Leo stepped forward, apart from his brothers.

"Something you need to say, TigerClaw?" he asked, his voice edged with warning.

TigerClaw drew up his great feline face and eyed him distastefully. "Nothing to say to you, turtle. But a message to send... perhaps." He beckoned behind him, his eyes turned to the dark sky.

"Hisoka!"

Leo's brows furrowed and he and his brothers followed TigerClaw's gaze to the stars. They had only to wait a moment before a dark figure came tumbling through the sky in a black flash, landing smoothly in front of them, crouched low.

When the figure straightened, Leonardo took a step back, his eyes wide.

It was Donnie. Or at least – that's who he thought it was. This version of his brother was cloaked in black from head to toe in an outfit not unlike the one Karai had worn – lightly armored with a black mask that reached up over his chin and settled just below a pair of spiteful red eyes. It left only a sliver of his face visible beneath a crop of black hair.

When he stood to his full height, towering above the shorter brothers by several inches, Leonardo realized he had a weapon strapped to his back. A gloved hand reached behind him and pulled the weapon free of its hold, and for a moment Leo panicked – Was Donnie really using a _staff? _How much more obvious could he be?

But when Donnie – Hisoka – approached, his fingers twirling the weapon in his hands with deft, disarmingly easy movements, Leo realized it wasn't a bo staff – it was something dark, sleek and metal, certainly long and narrow like a staff but much, much more than what Donnie had wielded before. Behind him, he heard the uneasy movements of Raphael and Mikey as they glanced at each other.

Before them, Donnie drew closer and then stopped, stooping into a low crouch with his weapon high behind him. Then, with a flick of his fingers – _clink! - _a metallic sound popped through the air and two large scythe-shaped blades jutted from either end of the staff, pointing in opposite directions and glinting dangerously. A modified _naginata. _

"Whoa," Mikey took a step back, his eyes wide.

Raphael's movements became more restless, but he found time to step forward and whisper to Leo. "Come on, it's still just Donnie. Let's just take him down and get it over with." Leo nodded vaguely, but he had a very, very bad feeling about this.

No sooner had he finished the movement than Donnie sprang, and the two blades disappeared into a whirl of flashes and colors. "Go!" Leo shouted, leaping forward and meeting the blows of the blade with his own. The other Footbots jumped into the action, blazing across the rooftop against Raphael and Mikey in a cluster of furious hits. Leonardo focused on Donnie, unrecognizable beneath his humanized features and heated glare. The scythe-shaped blades sliced through the air with startling speed, each other coming at Leonardo with increasing strength. Leo barely blocked a last swipe, the sight and memory of his brother slowing him. How could he fight this? How could he fight Donnie like this?

But Donnie wasn't holding back. Every blow came at Leo with the weight of a freight train behind it, and he didn't recognize any of the moves, any of the spins as Donnie leaped and spun out of the way of his attacks, which he pushed forward with more intensity as the battle continued on.

Leo sliced through the air near Donnie's shoulder with a yell, but the other quickly darted out of the way and caught the end of Leonardo's katana with one of his hooked blades. Leo caught a brief glimpse of his brother's eyes and saw a smirk there, something that startled him so deeply that he let Donnie pull all his weight on the hooked blade – and hurl him straight up into the air, where he crashed back down onto the rooftop with a pained grunt.

Raphael was at his side in a second, but he'd barely helped Leo to stand before Donnie was on them both, his long staff battering away at both of his brother's weapons with every lightning fast spin and twirl. Several Footbots joined in the fray now and took Leonardo's attention away.

Donnie paused just long enough to twirl his staff and pull it behind his back, his eyes alight with a strange fire as he settled his gaze on Raphael. The turtle in red growled and brandished his sai.

"Come on then, if you think you're so damn tough." He twirled the three-pronged blades threateningly. In response, Donnie moved his staff high and then, in one fluid movement, he tossed it up in the air and then snapped it in half. Raphael's eyes widened as he watched him deftly catch the two pieces, and now Donnie stood in front of him, hands turning the newly formed weapons in each hand. He crouched low and waited.

Raphael charged and the two met in the center of the roof, heated swings blasting into powerful strikes. One of Raphael's sai nearly caught Donnie's shoulder but his brother darted away in an unfamiliar movement. It seemed that every turn, every strike Donnie made was so unlike his regular forms that Raphael had no idea what to expect – whereas Donnie knew exactly what he was going to do.

One of Donatello's feet caught Raphael square in the chest and knocked him clear across the rooftop where he crashed into an old air conditioning unit. He jumped back up with a snarl, his muscles burning with fury. Leonardo appeared at his side. "You okay?" he asked breathlessly.

"I'm about to kick his ass -"

"Cool your head and keep focused," Leonardo started, but his voice dropped away when he spotted Donnie stepping around them with a dangerously attentive gaze, his head tilted like a predator watching prey. Leonardo's jaw clenched and he touched Raphael's arm to move him away, but it was too late.

With a loud yell, Donatello snapped his arm in a fierce throwing motion. Two shurikens cut through the air, whistling right at them. They both ducked, but – nothing. Raphael blinked.

"He missed," he whispered to Leo, but Leo only shook his head. His eyes darted around nervously.

"Donnie doesn't miss..."

"GET DOWN!" Raphael yanked them both down just in time for the pair of throwing stars to come whizzing by from behind, piercing the air where their heads had been and locking into the stilted legs of an old water tower that shared their rooftop. Raphael and Leonardo stared and then balked in unison The throwing stars were blinking. "Shit -"

The tiny weapons exploded with a massive _boom _and the groaning tower toppled, falling over with a distressed crash that tumbled on top of them with crushing force. Raphael shoved Leonardo out of the way but the speed of it sent the pair smashing into a pile of debris. They both rolled over the side of the roof with a stomach-turning drop.

"Leo!" Raphael snatched his brother's hand just as he grabbed a hold of a fire-escape, his sai dropping down to the concrete alley several floors below. When he looked back down at his brother in blue, he saw that he'd been hit by something. He was unconscious, dangling only by the wrist Raphael kept in a tight grip.

"Damn it!" Raphael struggled to readjust his grip but it was fading fast. If he could just get up to the roof and toss Leo over the edge -

"I got ya, bros!" Mikey's kusarigama chains cut through the air and wrapped around Raphael's arm just as his grip started to give. He and Leo dropped a few inches before he managed to snatch the chains, and he groaned with the effort of holding Leo's unconscious form below him. Mikey was several feet above them, both hands wrapped around the chains in an effort to pull them up. Then he gave a yelp and turned, locking the chains swiftly around one arm to keep them secure while he pulled out his chucks with his other hand. Raphael shouted up to his brother as he saw Footbots swarming near the rooftop edge, but as he watched, Mikey fought them off with one hand, his feet shuffling back to the edge of the roof precariously as he was beaten back by the sheer number of the bots.

The chain Mikey had wrapped around his arm was cutting into his skin with the weight of his two brothers dangling at the end and he was only getting more abuse from the other side. Still, even against the weight of his both Raph and Leo, Mikey fought and yelled back against the bots without dropping them.

Raphael cried out when he saw him take a brutal hit to the stomach and he yanked Leo up to his level, wrapping one arm around the other's shell and then pushing himself up with the wall with renewed strength. The gravity of his pull left bloody rings on Mikey's arm, but their youngest brother didn't let go, even as he was shoved to his knees by a Footbot. With a loud yell, Raphael hauled Leonardo's unconscious form over the edge and then hopped over Michelangelo with his blades already cutting viciously through the air.

Mikey collapsed behind him and Raphael sliced a path through the Footbots, no cut deep enough to satisfy his rage. Within seconds, each of the robots lay in pile of broken debris and broken fuses, popping wires their last calls for help as Raphael stood, heaving, his snarl settled firmly on the few figures left standing.

TigerClaw. Rahzar. Fishface.

And Donatello.

The two stared each other down for a long minute, each poised for another attack. Raphael could barely contain the flurry of blinding sensations that screamed at him for blood, for retribution, but his two injured brothers behind him stalled his thirst for vengeance.

With a snap of his arm, he tossed down a smoke-bomb.

* * *

The sewers were quiet as Donatello navigated them, his eyes taking much longer to adjust to the dark than he remembered. When he found the silhouette of their hidden door, he paused to welcome the familiarity of it.

Unfortunately, when he stepped inside his home, he found nothing of the warm comfort it had once brought.

In the living room, lying in various states of injury on the couch, sat his brothers. Leonardo was conscious once more, an icepack on his head. He was slack against the couch arm with a pained expression on his face. Raphael was cut up, but ignoring his wounds - as to be expected - in order to attend to Mikey, who was easily the most injured and beaten of them all. That wasn't entirely unusual, but the glaring red welps and cuts that covered his left arm were certainly new.

Donatello stepped inside and hurried to the couch. His brothers all looked and then balked at the sight of him. Leo and Mikey tried to be subtle about it, but Raphael was, as usual, not quite as so deft in his reactions.

"The hell are you doing here?" he hissed, standing away from Mikey and marching straight up to his bewildered brother.

Donnie glanced at the others, his eyes wide. "I live here," he stated, a bit annoyed. He tried to peer around Raphael. "Move, Raph. I need to help Mikey."

"You stay away from him! He's lookin' like that because of you!"

"Raphael," warned Leo from the couch, even as he struggled to sit up. "Lay off of him."

"What?" Raphael whirled on Leo. "You saw what he did back there!"

"We knew we would have to fight him eventually," Leo countered, his eyes cool. "We did what he had to. Shredder wouldn't have spent all that time and effort getting Rahzar to train him if he didn't plan on using him against us. Shredder still wants us dead, Raph. That hasn't changed."

"Maybe not," Raphael scowled in Donnie's direction. "But _something _sure as hell has."

Donnie stepped forward, his lips parted. "Guys, I wanted to warn you about the fight, but I didn't have time! They just sprung it on me, I didn't want..." he sighed, his shoulders dropping. "I didn't know what to do! I mean, come on... I didn't want you guys to get hurt."

"Oh, and you couldn't have taken a second to tell us about your fancy new weapon either, huh?" Raphael snapped.

Donnie grimaced. "I wanted your reactions to seem genuine, that's all." His eyes turned away from his two elder brothers and shifted to Mikey. He darted forward, not missing his little brother's whimper as he brushed his fingers against the arm.

"Oh, Mikey... I'm - I'm so sorry," Donnie quickly turned to the first-aid kit, his fingers darting over the supplies. Raph had been tending to him, but he wasn't great at wound care. Everything he'd done for Mikey so far was rough and rushed.

"It's okay," murmured his brother, even as he winced in pain. "You were just pretendin' for Shredder, that's all." His voice was small and it made Donatello's heart ache. His little brother was in pain and this was _his _fault - his plan, his efforts. All on him. Again. Always on him.

"Here, take this..." Donnie found the pain medicine and gave Mikey an appropriate dose, even as his other two brothers hovered nearby. Mikey smiled a little and it lifted Donnie's heart. At least one of his brothers still believed in him. Leo and Raph were still watching him, wearing matching gazes of suspicion that Leo's words couldn't completely dissuade or disguise.

"Guys," Donnie faced them. "I'm sorry you got hurt, okay? But don't you see?" He rose to his feet. "That was a test! They didn't say it, but I know it was. I couldn't fake it with you guys, TigerClaw and Rahzar would have seen right through it. But now... now they think I'm for real. They won't doubt me anymore, not after that."

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't expect them to," Raphael folded his arms. "You nearly killed us, you psychopath."

"Oh come on," Donnie leaned against the couch, exasperated. "It wasn't that bad."

Raphael narrowed his eyes. An uncomfortable silence floated between them and then Donnie's eyes shifted, comprehension dawning on him. He stood once more and faced Raphael.

"You're just angry... because I beat you."

Green eyes widened and then sharpened into dangerous white slits. "You did _not _beat me."

"That's what you're pissed off about," Donnie straightened to his full height and glared down at Raphael. A delirious feeling of accomplishment bubbled in his chest. "You're not upset about getting hurt, you're angry because you thought I would go down easy. And I didn't."

"Shut your damn mouth, Donnie."

"I _bested _you for the first time ever," Donnie shook his head in amazement. "And that just kills you, doesn't it?"

"I SAID SHUT YOUR - "

"**Stop!" **

The heated argument closed with a snap. Leonardo stepped forward, his furious gaze on them both. "Both of you..." he said lowly. ".. need to stop talking. Right now." The other two brothers looked away, shoulders twitching with unbridled aggression. Still, they both kept silent as their brother looked between them.

"Raphael, go to the dojo and meditate."

"The hell -"

"_Now." _

Donatello thought Raphael's jaw would literally crack in two, he was fighting down his words with such heat and strength. When he stomped away, the slamming of the dojo door nearly took it off its hinges. Donnie felt a smirk threaten his lips, but Leonardo's face made it drop away.

"Donnie, tend to Mikey and then just - " he closed his eyes briefly, his fingers curled at his side as if he, too, were exercising the utmost in self-restraint. " .. just go. Go to your room or something." He looked away, his eyes narrow and unfocused. "I don't want to see you in the dojo or the living room. But do not leave the sewer."

Donnie's body and mind waged war, each fighting to rebel on either side of Leo's command. Ultimately, he did as he was told, helping Mikey wrap up his arm and then moving to his long-forgotten bedroom. As he settled on the edge of his disused bed, he scanned the room and fell into deep thought.


	11. Chapter 11

Author's Notes: New episodes of TMNT on March 8th! Get hype, guys! In other news, I'm officially upping the rating on this story to M, mostly for some upcoming violence in later chapters. Also a bit of smut might make an appearance... But mainly violence.

**Special Edit**: This chapter is dedicated to the life and memory of Leonard Nimoy.

Song Suggestion - "Mirror" by Ellie Goulding.

As always, words cannot express how much I treasure your reviews, favs and follows. Enjoy!

* * *

"_Hajime!"_

_Sunlight worked its way through barely parted blinds, a teasing glimpse of something closed off and far away. Inside the dojo, the air filtered through a layer of dust and sweat, creating a misty haze. Metal jutted against metal, followed suit by grunts and yelps. A quick shriek and thud fell away into the soundtrack of the dojo, but Oroku Saki heard it nonetheless. _

"_Get up," he told her, but the girl scrambled to her feet before the words finished leaving his mouth. _

_Turning back to her opponent, Oroku Saki's young daughter narrowed her eyes and leaped at taller Foot soldier. He jumped aside, barely missing a quick strike and countered with a blow of his own. This time, the young girl was ready for him. With a silent roll, she tumbled out out of the way and cut his feet from beneath him. The other trainee dropped to the mat with a short grunt stifled by a knee pressed to his throat. _

_Karai raised her blade and then stopped, a pleased smile working its way onto her features. _"_Did you see that, Father?" she turned her head to face him and the resulting glare made her face dip away, her expression falling into apathy once more. _

_Saki spoke, "Do not seek praise, Karai. I expect you to excel. Anything less is … unacceptable."_

_Karai nodded stiffly and moved to stand, but her father's quick motion stopped her. _"_Finish him."_

_The young girl lifted her head curiously, and when she looked back at her fallen opponent, she struggled to recognize him as a threat. He was beneath her, his hands weaponless and held palms-up in a motion of peace. They were training. Her life was not at stake. _

"_You heard me, Karai." Oroku Saki's voice rolled over his adopted daughter, echoing in her mind even as she looked up and stared straight through one of the lone streams of sunlight that braved the dusty dojo. For a moment, her thoughts shifted and she reached forward to brush her fingers through one of the warm rays. _

_A figure moved in front of her, a silhouette she knew so well, and the ray disappeared behind a shadow. Karai dropped her hand, and without a moment's more hesitation, she knocked the handle of her blade into the fallen ninja's face. He dropped back to the mat with a pained cry, unconscious. _

_Karai stood, her eyes lowered, her lips pursed. When her father moved behind her, she felt the weight of his shadow, and she mourned the loss of the light._

"_In any conflict," said her father from behind her, his voice low and level. "...the winner is the one who is prepared to do what the loser _willnot_." _

_His hand gripped her shoulder. _

* * *

April O'Neil hummed and shifted the bag in her arms.

Fumbling with the key and trying not to drop everything in her grip, she huffed with annoyance when she realized the door was unlocked. Her brows furrowed, she ducked into the dark apartment and hefted the bag of cat food to the other arm. Peering around the corner cautiously, she relaxed when she spotted the source of the "break-in."

"Couldn't you try lighting more than one candle, Donnie?"

Donatello jerked his head up from where he sat at Murakami's kitchen counter, his fingers carefully balancing a pair of chopsticks. "April!" He was seated on a bar stool, only a single small tea candle illuminating his meal. April dropped the bags onto a barstool and smiled at him.

"The one and only," she gestured, trying not to be too obvious as she studied his slumped shoulders and exhausted features. He was practically leaning over his bowl of noodles, one elbow propping up a great deal of his weight while he nudged ramen into his mouth with the opposite hand. He paused long enough to give her a distressed look, something he did so well.

"April, you shouldn't come here," he straightened on his seat, his shoulders dropping tiredly under dark layered fabric of his uniform. "What if Rahzar or someone sees you?"

"I'm supposed to be taking care of Murakami's stuff," she unloaded the bag with a dismissive shrug before placing a hand on her hip. "I don't suppose _you've _been watering his plants? Hmm?" Without waiting for an answer, she began bustling around, though she did stop to pick up and cuddle the tabby cat prowling around her legs. "Aww, has Donnie been ignoring you, sweet kitty?"

Donnie narrowed his eyes and mumbled something about needy cats that get too much attention as it is. He went back to his food, though he seemed powerless against the desire to watch April as she moved around the apartment. April caught him watching more than once, but he seemed entirely unapologetic about it, so she just smiled and shook her head. Once she felt things were in order, she took a seat at the counter, directly across from him.

"You're eating ramen again?" she asked with a cringe. "That's like the third time this week. And it's only Wednesday."

As she watched, Donnie swirled his chopsticks in the noodle mixture idly, his eyes lowered. When he spoke, his voice was quiet. "Mikey usually cooks."

A frown settled over April's face. She leaned forward, her chin falling into her hands. "You miss them, huh?" she inquired softly.

Donnie's eyes lifted from his bowl and a small smile touched his face, his eyes drawn and weary. "Yeah," he jabbed at the noodles in his bowl, only making half-hearted attempts at eating. When he finally pushed the bowl away with a sigh, April slid her hands across the bar and slipped her fingers over his.

April smiled. "It'll be over soon, D. I know they're ready to have you back, too."

She'd meant the words as reassuring, but the look that crossed Donnie's face was anything but appeased. To her surprise, he pulled away from her and stood with a tight shrug. "I doubt it," he said. April stood and followed him, wishing – for the thousandth time – that he had lit more than one candle. As soon as he stepped away from the counter, he practically disappeared between the shadows of the apartment, just as he had been raised to do.

"Donnie..." April reached out and touched his arm, tugging him gently back to her. The flickering light jumped over his features as he peered down at her, eyes dark. "Stop," she told him firmly, her hand moving to his cheek. Her other paused at his front – she had meant to press him back into the candlelight – but then she yanked her hand away. "Wh – Why's your shirt wet?" A quick turn of her hand made her gasp. "Donnie, you're bleeding!"

"What -" he glanced down and blinked confusedly, prodding at a place on his side and then wincing. "That was stupid," he muttered to himself, even as April reappeared with her ever-ready First Aid kit. Yanking him back into the light, she pressed back the material and spotted a generous split in the fabric over his ribs, an angry red cut just beneath that. Donnie glanced at it and then shrugged, a tired sigh escaping him. "Must have been from training," he told her, jumping a little as she pressed back the fabric and inspected the wound.

"You guys train with real blades?" she asked, trying to remember if he'd had an injury like this before. Donnie simply shrugged again, keeping curiously silent.

"Oh, for God's sake. How could you not notice this?" She felt like popping him in the face but managed to contain the burst of redhead ire. "You are not taking care of yourself at all," she told him, even as he opened his mouth in an effort at self-defense. "Nope! I mean it! Now be quiet and let me take care of this. I mean, really... for all the... Not even paying attention to your own blood..."

Mutter. Growl. Curse. Donatello seemed amused by the aggressive attention, and it made April's annoyance all the more potent. "Here, take off your – ninja shirt thing."

"_Shozoku_," he corrected with a smirk.

"Whatever," April turned away and gathered her bandages, even as she heard the rustle of fabric behind her. Irritated as she was, she didn't really think about the command she'd given him until she turned around – to see him shirtless. Again.

She pressed it away and prayed for the darkness of the room to cover her flush. As she'd noted the very first time she'd seen him as a human, Donnie was built much like his turtle self – tall and lean, though it seemed that since joining the Foot clan, his arms and torso had filled more. Whereas before he could have easily passed for skinny_, _it was difficult now to miss the clear definition of muscles that outlined his figure.

_Oh my god, April. Shut up. _

Clearing her throat a little, she stepped up to Donnie and carefully looked over his wound. Chanting a mantra in her head that sounded suspiciously like _Stop being creepy, April!_ the redhead made a mental list of the things she needed to do and then got straight to work, cleaning the blood away from Donnie's skin. The wound was only a few hours old and it looked like he'd thoughtlessly patched at it, but it was in serious need of a cleaning and some real bandaging. Unfortunately for April, her mind was going a million miles a minute and it was making her fingers jump and shake.

"Did you know that blood makes up about 7% of a human's body weight?"

April paused in her trembling motions and glanced up, an eyebrow raised. Donnie smiled down at her. "It's true," he told her, before continuing on in his thoughtful sort of way. "And about 55% of that is plasma, which contains a lot of nutrients like amino acids and fatty acids. It also removes waste products."

April's lip quirked, her fingers growing more steady as she let the barrage of facts take a comfortable place in her mind, allowing the nerves to slip away. "And then you have coagulation," Donnie went on, his eyes somewhere over her head, a small smile on his lips. April grinned, her fingers unwinding the bandages now that his wound was clean.

"Do tell."

"Well," Donnie took a deep breath. "That begins with damage to the endothelium lining of a blood vessel. The platelets start changing and the clotting process begins..." April moved close again, her hands delicately wrapping the binding around his torso. She hummed thoughtfully in response to Donnie's rambling, a smile on her face as she occasionally stopped him to ask questions. He always answered them patiently, even offering detailed examples that he, apparently, knew off the top of his head. Before either of them knew what was happening, April was done and washing her hands.

Stepping up to him again with a washcloth in hand, April inspected her work and bit her lip. "I hope that'll work," she murmured, dropping the cloth to the side. Donnie followed her gaze to the white binding and lifted a hand, his fingertip drawing her chin up until she met his gaze.

"It's perfect. Thank you."

April's heart fluttered deep in her chest, blooming into a full blush that danced up her neck. It grew more fervent still when Donnie's thumb moved to trace the lining of her jaw, his red eyes drinking in her face as if it was the last thing he ever hoped to see. It was such a painfully obvious admiration. It was one of the reasons April had stayed away before, had pressed away most of his advances.

To be on the receiving end of such devotion was terrifying.

What had she ever done to deserve Donnie's love, she wondered, even as she stepped closer and studied his features. He'd never asked anything of her (save maybe for her attention), had never attempted to sway her mind or keep her hidden away. Even when Casey had still be around so often and the two had fought on a daily basis, Donnie had never allowed him to fall to harm, even though things might have been much simpler for him if he had.

Fingers still tingling from the warm water dropped lightly over Donnie's bare chest. The tremble had returned, and the reasons were not altogether different, but this time he didn't offer her the favor of distraction. Instead, Donnie let his hand fall to April's shoulder as she drew her fingertips over his skin.

She'd covered his wound, but he had several other marks and bruises from training, each one etched into his skin. He was darker than her – who wasn't? - but the dim light of the candle flickering nearby disguised most of the differences. In the shadows that jumped around the room, April's skin looked as dark and bruised as his. She lifted her eyes to his and wasn't surprised to find that he was watching her, the steady rise and fall of his chest a measured beat beneath her wandering hands.

His breathing was even, but his heart was pounding. She could feel its pulse beneath her palm, warm and alive. She parted her lips to speak, but her body overruled her mind and she pressed up on her toes until her lips met his. A soft squeak escaped her, which was silly – she'd been the one who kiss him, after all. Even so, she felt amazement stir inside of her and jump to her lips, creating a shock of electricity between them that had her pressing even closer.

She'd hardly moved, hardly processed what was happening when a pair of strong arms slipped around her and Donnie was kissing her back, his head dropping towards hers with a deep sigh that manifested in a quiet groan. April had only ever shared a few quick kisses with anyone, most of them being with Donnie, but it didn't take her long to figure out that _this –_ this was something completely new and different and the effect of it made her giddy.

_Why did I do this while he was shirtless? _April's mind swam at the sensation of feeling his bare skin beneath her hands.

Careful digits moved down the length of his torso, brushing over hardened muscle until the space between the bodies simply disappeared and she was forced to drop her hands away. The loss was too great and she moved them up over his neck, deepening the kiss as she wrapped them tight. His name bubbled on her lips, but the two could only pull away long enough for a breath of air before they were drawn together again. Donnie's hand pressed low against April's back, curling through the fabric of her shirt in blatant expression of desire, nothing between but a few scraps of clothing and their equally thin restraint. His other hand delved up and into her hair, an involuntary gasp escaping between their barely parted lips as Donnie turned them both in an easy fluid motion. When a shock of cool wall met April's back and Donnie body bracketed her on the other side, April's hazy mind prompted her to stop, to gain control of herself for god's sake, what was _wrong _with her?

She should stop this, she should -

Donnie pressed a hand against the wall next to her head and then his lips found her neck with a heated kiss. April's lips parted, her eyes shooting open and her breath catching in her chest. A thrill she'd never felt before bolted through her limbs and god, she didn't _want _to stop, but she had to because the burning want that was threatening to take control of her limbs was becoming more and more ardent with every passing second and -

Suddenly, Donatello pulled away.

April exhaled shakily, her brief surprise shifting into an uncomfortable mixture of disappointment and shame. She should have pulled away first! _Maybe Raphael was right_, she mused hurriedly tucked her head, her eyes low and her chest still heaving. "I – um," she cleared her throat a little, the sound strangely high-pitched. "We should stop," she managed breathlessly. Silence followed, and when April finally braved a peek up at Donnie, she saw he had tucked his face into her shoulder and every breath he drew was a deep shuddering inhale.

"Donnie?"

"Just a second," came his strained response, and even though his face was hidden, it struck April that he was just as affected by all of this as she was. Perhaps even more so, judging from the tight way he held his muscles. As this information swirled in her mind, a giggle escaped her. She didn't _mean to, _but -

"Are you _laughing_ at me?" asked Donnie incredulously, lifting up his head to stare at her.

April pressed a hand over her lips. "No, no!" Donnie groaned and hid his face in her hair again, his hands falling to her hips, prompting April to open her mouth to apologize only to realize he was shaking again – this time with laughter.

"Donnie!" April joined in the laughter and soon it consumed them both, still leaning against the wall together, still eclipsed in the darkness of the apartment. The candle, April realized belatedly, had gone out completely and now only the moonlight streaming through the window illuminated their faces.

Swallowing a gulp of air, April tilted Donnie's face up once more and pressed a brief kiss to his lips. He tried to follow her as she pulled away, but she shook her head at him with a grin. "I can't let you be the only one with some self-restraint," she snickered, even as the truth of her words made her heart burst into a furious thump.

Donnie's lips quirked at a smirk. "Self-restraint? Hardly. More like..." he paused, and now April could see she wasn't the only one who was blushing.

"Well, certain things are easier to control... with a shell," he admitted with an embarrassed smile.

April blinked, confused for a moment – and then her eyes widened. "Oh my god," her laughter bubbled into an embarrassed hiccup as she slipped away from him, finally moving from the wall. "I think that means.. I should go," she grinned, moving away from him. He stepped aside politely, but his eyes never left her as she moved darted to grab her things. After shoulder her purse, she stepped towards the door and then paused to look at him.

He was watching her even now, his hands clasped in front of him in the same way he often stood in front of Master Splinter – respectful, anticipatory. The air of patient obedience was somewhat ruined by the fact that he was still shirtless and bandaged, looking like he'd been on the wrong end of a barfight sometime in the last 24 hours.

April shifted the strap of her purse. "I love you," she told him, because it was the only thought she could form as she watched him stand there. Donnie's face slowly lit up in a smile that the shadows of the room could do nothing to hide. He remained where he was, simply watching her, hands still clasped.

"I love you, too." A pause. "... Be safe."

And then she was gone.

* * *

Donatello stood, motionless in the dark, for nearly three hours. Finally, he spoke.

"I'll be in my lab."

Never realizing there was no one left to hear him.

* * *

"Are you sure he's not in there?"

Mikey shook his head, a worried frown mottling his features. "He's definitely not in his room or the lab, bro." Leonardo scowled, his blue eyes shifting around the lair. Raphael and Mikey stood nearby, each shifting uncomfortably in their spots.

"Should we go and look for him?" asked Raphael. Leo's vacant gaze moved to a dark corner of the lair's kitchen. "No. I told him to stay in the lair and he left anyway. He's where he wants to be."

Raphael and Michelangelo watched as he left the kitchen without another word.

* * *

The hum of the centrifuge. The drip drip drip of a nearby dropper, delicately pacing the introduction of a chemical compound to Donnie's latest mixture. The tick of the clock.

Deep in the depths of Shredder's base, Donatello worked alone. It hadn't occurred to him to head back to the lair for work in the lab – this was _his _lab now, no matter what that joke of scientist Stockman thought. He'd thought to soothe himself with the familiar practices, the effort at progress that had so far been denied to him. But everything about the laboratory was working against him. The noises. The textures. He wasn't even supposed to be here at this hour, hadn't seen anyone or told others that he'd be here. But it didn't matter. This was _his. _

And it was driving him insane.

Why, why why why why?

Why couldn't he just complete this damn formula? Why wasn't he able to do the _one thing _he was supposed to be good at? This was supposed to be his greatest triumph, this was his chance to really prove something and -

_Why the hell is there so much noise in here? _

Donnie gripped the edges of the lab table and squeezed his eyes shut. What was bothering him so much, why did everything feel so wrong, why was every single noise and sensation a grating against his skin that made him feel like he was slowly being eaten alive by at thousand microscopic suckers, leeching away at his skin and pouring madness into his veins like a poison?

Why did his heart thump so wildly, painful and jolting, for no reason?

Why did he constantly feel like he was being chased, being hunted, being hurt? Why was everything around him a hammer to his heart, his mind a hurricane of wordless, jagged thoughts that consumed his reason? Oh God, WHY -

"DAMN IT!" Donnie wrenched the lab table from the floor and hurled it across the room, glass raining down to the floor in a graveyard of broken beakers, flasks and machinery. Heaving, Donnie stared at the overturned table, his fists clenched, tears rolling down his face.

He pressed his closed fists to his eyes and sobbed. Something in his side pulsed unpleasantly and he reached down, his fingers brushing blood. He'd re-opened his wound. Damn Raphael and his sai. Donnie swallowed, but another sob escaped him, forcing him to his knees.

He sat that way for several minutes, never noticing the silent footfalls as they approached.

Peering up at the figure, Donnie's watery eyes widened and he jumped to his feet. "Master Shredder, I – I'm sorry. I'll fix this. I just – I -"

"Quiet, boy."

Donnie inhaled and pressed away more tears, his shaky limbs retreating away from the forboding figure in front of him. For a moment, Shredder simply observed the mess. Then he turned back to Donnie, his expression given rare display without his helmet. His features were grotesquely arranged from his accident, and so even being able to see him hardly made him seem more human.

"You are troubled," he observed in his low tones. "That much is... obvious."

Donnie lowered his eyes, giving a small shake of his head. What could he say? It wasn't like he could explain to Shredder what was happening with him... even if he'd understood it himself. Then again, why shouldn't he try? It was obvious that Shredder knew he wasn't a normal person, for whatever reason. Deciding that he could likely not make things much worse than they were, Donnie spoke carefully, his tone quiet.

"I... I'm just so angry. I don't know what's wrong with me, but - "

"There is nothing wrong with you, boy," Shredder cut him off, and Donnie stared at him incredulously. "How can you say that? Look what I did!" he gestured, his lips parted in disbelief. He remembered Mikey's words, Raphael's condemnations.

_There's something wrong with you, bro! _

_What's wrong with you? _

Shredder moved away from Donnie, walking smoothly over the bits of broken glass and metal. "You acted irrationally, yes, but not because of your anger. Instead, it is your _fear _of that anger that impedes you." Donnie's brows furrowed and he remained silent, his eyes low as he fell into thought.

"You have great potential, Hisoka. You are … very powerful."

Donnie's head jerked up, his eyebrows furrowed. "Powerful? Me?" A short, bitter laugh escaped him. "I've... never been told that in my life."

"I am not in the habit of idle flattery," Shredder rounded a lab table, his mismatched eyes on Donnie. "I say this because it is true. But you fear your power, and that is why you cannot yet grasp it." He came to a stop behind a lab table across from Donnie and watched the younger man carefully.

"I've always been taught... that anger blinds you," Donnie pointed out uncertainly.

"Anger is born of passion. Passion is what drives us," Shredder's eyes ticked over Donnie's face. "If you do not believe me... then tell me what you are angry about. Just now."

Donnie frowned. How honest could he be?

"I'm angry because..." his thoughts drifted back to April in the apartment, the way she'd felt in his arms. How it felt to go out with her that night they'd gone to dinner, how he'd felt walking arm in arm with her down the street. A heat boiled in his chest and his jaw tightened. Those things.. he'd never have them again after he was changed back to normal.

"I'm angry because I want things I can't have... and I want them too much."

"And how long have you waited for those things to simply be handed to you?"

"All my life," whispered Donnie.

"Then it is time for you to _take_ them," Shredder rounded the table, his hands clasped behind him. "You are no longer a child. You must use your strengths to get what you want. Your emotions are as essential in combat as your arms and legs." Shredder moved to stand in front of him. "To ignore them, even those you consider harmful, would be your downfall."

Donnie looked up at the imposing man in front of him. Some of what he said made sense – Master Splinter was always telling them to control their emotions, but to embrace them... was that the same thing? Was he truly afraid of his anger? Of his desire, his passion, his strength?

"And what if..." asked Donnie. "... What if your anger takes you too far?"

Shredder eyed him thoughtfully before shifting around him. His figure cast a long shadow over the pile of debris still dotting the laboratory floor.

"What better time to move forward," said Oroku Saki. "... than when there is no turning back?"

His hand gripped Donnie's shoulder.

* * *

A few days later, Donnie was summoned to the surface level of Shredder's lair. As he stepped inside, he noticed a new layer of siding to the left of the room. Shredder stood, absent his lieutenants, his eyes on a seemingly blank wall. Donnie approached, his gaze following Shredder's to the wall.

"How close are you to completing the retro-mutagen?"

"Close," Donnie murmured.

Shredder released a small remote from within the folds of his armor and pressed a solitary button. The wall peeled away, revealing a large room wrapped in glass.

Within it, hissing violently at the sudden appearance of others, was Karai. Donnie stared wordlessly, following her motions as she ducked away from the glass and curled into a defensive coil in the corner of her glass prison.

"Cure her," Shredder commanded, his voice a low growl. Donnie nodded, his eyes never leaving the contained mutant.

"Yes, Master."

* * *

Donnie managed to make it to dinner at the lair that night. His brothers were mostly just talking around him, passing a box of pizza between them, but their conversations never made it to the forefront of his mind. Even Master Splinter's efforts at engaging him were for naught.

"... going to start looking more on the northeast side of town," Leonardo was saying. "Karai's been spotted there a few times before and we might find her there." He paused, eyeing Donnie from across the counter. "Sound good?"

Donatello blinked, his head shifting the direction of his eldest brother.

"Yeah Leo," he smiled a little. "Good luck."


	12. Chapter 12

Author's Note: Update so soon? Why yes, yes I will. Guys, seriously, look up triacylglycerol on tumblr to see an amazing illustration of the Fight Scene from Chapter 10. It is perfect!

Song Suggestion - "The Razor's Edge" (Piano Version) by Digital Daggers.

* * *

Distant chatter, the slamming of doors. Music drifting in from somewhere unseen, perhaps around the corner of a building or in the open grassy area nearby. Flags denoting mascots or an aged alma mater billowed on their aluminum poles, caught in the warm afternoon wind. Somewhere in the far corner of the campus, a marching band practiced in careful beat.

The city of New York held no shortage of colleges and universities, but this was by far the largest he'd seen. Donatello stood, his toes edging the sidewalk, just outside the great brick gates that lined the main entrance to campus.

He was alone.

Hands in the pockets of his jeans and eyes squinting against a sun he might never grow accustomed to, Donnie watched as students meandered in and out of the area with laughter or grimaces, depending on where they were heading. Some of them carried heavy textbooks while others scrambled to keep a hold of their newly bought food, heavy with condiments from a nearby stand. Donnie stepped aside when a pair of giggling freshmen girls passed, caught up in gossip. Distantly, he spotted some guys laughing and slapping each other on the back. Others hovered under the shade of trees, desperate for relief from the heat, a few sipping at bottled waters that littered the ground with perspiration.

All this Donnie watched, tucking each image away into his mind with precious consideration. His thoughtful observation came to an abrupt end when something knocked his shoulder.

"Ooh, I'm sorry!"

He turned to peer at a brunette girl, struggling to hold her books. Donnie wordlessly reached forward and tipped them back into her hand, allowing her to steady herself. "Thanks," she smiled, finally getting them situated again. "I didn't mean to bump you."

"It's alright," said Donnie distractedly, his eyes moving over her shoulder once more.

The girl followed his gaze. "Are you... lost? Least I could do is give you some directions after nearly knocking you over," she said with a sheepish smile.

Donnie offered her a polite smile in return. "No, thank you. I'm just... visiting."

The girl nodded and said, "Oh, well. If you're considering coming here, it's a really great school. I mean, I like it. And I'm not a huge school spirit person, but this is my second year and everyone I've met so far has been pretty great. All my teachers and stuff are cool, ya know."

Donnie nodded thoughtfully. "It seems nice," he conceded, his voice quiet. After a moment, he asked, "Where is the science building?"

The girl blinked at him and grinned. "Well, you're going to have to be more specific..." she paused to think. "I mean, there's biological science, chemistry, botany, mathematical science, geology, marine biology..." she ticked off her fingers as she went on, only to stop when she realized Donnie was staring at her, his brows furrowed and his eyes glistening.

"I – That's fine. I'll find what I'm looking for," he told her.

"Alright, cool. I've gotta get to class anyway." Dipping into her purse, she pulled out a colorful brochure and handed it to him. "Here, take one of these. It'll tell you everything you need to know." Donnie took the pamphlet from her and turned it over in his hands, his eyes speculative.

"I'm part of the printing staff," she explained with a laugh. "Not just a dork who carries around school brochures. Anyway, it was nice to meet you!" She hurried off, disappearing into a tall red brick building not too far away. Donnie didn't respond, nor did he look up from the pictures gracing the cover of the brochure.

After several minutes, Donnie tucked the paper into his backpocket and left.

* * *

_Donnie adjusted the speaker box a bit more aggressively than necessary._

"_And why was she even with him?" he turned to face the mutated glob that had once been Timothy – or the Pulverizer, as his brothers still called him. "Because he's human, that's why. Big deal! Do you know how many people are human?" _

_Falling into the chair next to his table once more, Donnie pulled out his beaker. He'd work all night if he had to. Curing April's father was the only way to get her back after how big they'd screwed everything up -_

"_Donatello, my son. I would like to speak with you." _

_A quick glance at the door revealed the form of Master Splinter, cane in hand. Donnie blinked uncertainly, mentally scanning the last 48 hours of history for anything he (or his brothers) might have done wrong. "Uh, sure...Master Splinter." He rose and followed him out. When they entered the dojo, Master Splinter turned to his son and tilted his head. _

"_Today, I am going to teach you to enjoy falling down." _

_A half hour later, after being knocked around by his Sensei more times than he could count, Donnie finally staggered back to his feet. "Did you enjoy that?" asked Master Splinter. _

_"No, Master Splinter!" Donnie held up his hands in a show of defeat. _

"_Hmm, then perhaps one cannot simply force someone to like something." _

_Donnie's shoulders fell. "Oh. You're talking about me and April." _

"_My son, for someone so intelligent, the obvious often eludes you," Master Splinter clasped his hands behind his back, watching as his son lowered his eyes with a soft sigh. _

_"Maybe I expect too much," murmured Donnie. "It's not as if I'd ever really have a chance with her. To her, I'm just... a mutant." _

"_Donatello," Master Splinter's clawed hand brushed his shoulder. "You, of all my sons, continue to be the most aware of your isolation, the manner in which you were all raised... You have understood since a young age what it means to be separated, to be different, even before you truly knew what that difference may be." The rat master bowed his head. "__It is a burden your brothers do not share, for they see the world through only their own eyes. But you, Donatello... You are weighted down by the eyes and thoughts of many. It a sight that offers you boundless knowledge... even so far as to cause you grief."_

_Donnie frowned. "Then I wish I wasn't a genius. I wish I didn't have so many things going on inside my head." He sighed, his body still aching from being dropped to the floor a dozen times in a row. He thought back to his vision of April, swinging in the concrete playground that served as a park, Casey Jones at her side. _

"_I wish I could just be a fool," he muttered. And maybe he was. The conventional definition seemed more and more abstract with every passing day. The envy he'd felt seeing April with Casey spilled over into the attitudes of his brothers. How easy it seemed to them, to accept their place juxtaposed to the rest of society. _

"_Being a fool would make you no less inclined to love," explained Master Splinter, his tones low in warning. "... only more dangerous in your attempt to keep it." _

_A heavy thud echoed outside of the dojo. _

* * *

Leonardo pointed at Raphael, never slowing his rapid pace down the hallway. "I'm telling you, Raph. I scrubbed the bathroom yesterday. Mikey did it the day before, now it's your turn."

"And I'm tellin' you, Splinter Jr. I did it yesterday!"

"You are such a liar," Leonardo shoved his brother's shoulder. Raphael tipped over with a grunt, knocking roughly into one of the bedroom doors. The heavy entrance creaked open, light spilling in front of the hallway and illuminating one of the corners. "Stay out of Donnie's room," Leo admonished. \

Raphael snorted. "He's never even here. You'd think he'd lock the thing or something."

Leo reached for the door after shoving Raphael out of the way. "He usually does. I don't know why it's open." Peering into the room, he frowned. It was dark as night in the room, only the dim fluorescent lighting from the sewer offering a hint of what lay within. Pausing thoughtfully, Leo leaned inside. "He's not in there, is he?"

"What're you two doing in my room?"

Leonardo and Raphael whirled around in unison, eyes wide. Donatello stood across from them, his tight frown suspicious. The two exchanged mutual glances, a single thought floating between them. How long had he been there? Masters of silence they all were, but Leonardo could count on one three-fingered hand the number of times Donnie had successfully snuck up on him.

"Your door was open. We were just -"

Donnie brushed by them both without a word and slammed the door shut, disappearing into the darkness without so much as a glance behind him. The other two brothers paused, waiting as if the closed door might offer them some answers. When it didn't – and Donnie made no further sounds from within – they left, their argument forgotten.

Inside, Donatello leaned against the door. His face felt pained with apprehension, his jaw clenched and his temples throbbing. When he was certain his brothers were gone, he dropped down the length of his door to settle on the cold floor. His eyes welled with tears as he fumbled for his single lamp, still smeared on the base.

The low light clicked on, shadows jumping up to take their places around the corners of the subterranean bedroom. Each of them highlighted a different area of wall, most of which had once been the home of posters containing things like the periodic table or a photo of Einstein. He'd ripped them all away, though, left them in shreds on the floor.

Now, floor to ceiling, the walls were covered in a smear of formulas, mathematical systems and charts, graphs drawn from memory and then harshly covered with blotches of rusty color. There were words to, some English, some Japanese. Some were written over and over and over again, no inch of wall left unmarked.

Donnie stood slowly, his bones and joints screaming at him for rest. But he couldn't. Not when there was so much work to do.

* * *

_Tonight was the first night. It was the first time he had found himself outside of the maze._

_He was standing at the bottom of a grassy hill, the sky above a blanket of stars unmarred by city lights, hanging naked over natural valleys. The world was awash in navies and violets. The air was dry, but not unpleasantly so. Every warm whistle through the grass stirred Donnie's hair and he lifted his hands to catch it, hold it in his grasp. He closed his eyes, allowing the peace and serenity to wash over him._

_When he re-opened his eyes, the fire had returned. _

_Horrified, Donnie turned in a slow circle. Suddenly, he was wearing the uniform given to him by Shredder, mask in place just below his wide eyes. In seconds, he was on top of the hill from before. The skeletal remains of a house stood there, blazing in a furious flame that jumped into the sky with angry cries. _

_No, not the fire. It wasn't the flames that were crying._

_Donnie rushed forward, and just as he had a thousand times before, he felt the fire on all sides of him. It stuck to his flesh and singed his hair, but he couldn't stop, he had to keep going – and then he saw her, beneath a fallen beam. Her face was contorted in pain and her cries were growing louder and louder. _

"_Save me!" April O'Neil cried out to him. Her hair, strangely long, caught the wind and before Donatello could react, it snared the tip of a flame. In a motion so slow it could never have been natural, the flame traveled up the length of her hair until it reached her face. Donnie had just enough time to see her spiteful glare, just once, before the fire consumed her face and the rest of the house followed suit. The collapse of the structure was deafening. _

"_WHY DIDN'T YOU SAVE ME?" _

* * *

"The hell are you doin'?"

Donnie turned slowly at the sound of Raphael's voice. After a few slow blinks, he shrugged and turned back to the direction he'd been facing. He was standing in the center of the living room area. He'd been waiting for something, hadn't he? He couldn't remember. He'd been here for a while, though. His bare feet were freezing. Maybe he'd meant to go out, he thought belatedly. His modified staff was strapped to his back over his uniform. Yes, he'd been going somewhere. But he'd stopped.

Donnie glanced at the clock. He'd stopped for a _while. _

Silent, Donnie turned his thoughts inward as he tried to figure out what he was supposed to be doing. Unfortunately, Raphael didn't seem to care for all the standing around, because he moved around him with a grunt and dove for the television remote. Mikey entered just behind him, whistling as he tossed a Nerf ball between his hands. "Hey dudes," he stopped to pick up a bowl of candy April had brought them. He munched on a toffee candy and made a face. "Ew." He ate another.

Finally finding the strength to move, Donnie crossed in front of the television to go into the kitchen. He stopped, though, when he spotted Raphael's curious look. "What?"

"What's this?" growled Raphael, and before Donnie could answer, the turtle leaned forward and plucked something from Donnie's back pocket. The three brothers each eyed the brochure, emblazoned with the NYU logo on the front. Silence fell in the living room as Raphael moved it in his hands. With a strange look back at Donnie, Raphael held up it up.

"This is for college."

"Yes," Donnie shifted to face him. He refused to sit. "And?"

"You can't go to college," Raphael leaned forward, elbows on his knees. He held the brochure a little too hard in his hand, crinkling the glossy photo of happy students on the front. "Why the hell do you even have this?"

"I'm allowed to look," said Donnie flatly.

"And what the hell is the point? You're not gonna go," he stood, curling the paper in his rough fingers. "Not unless they've started a scholarship program for mutant ninjas. Which, I gotta say, you'd think would make the news." His green eyes narrowed on his brother, his arms crossed.

Donnie stared at him, apathetic. "Am I supposed to be deterred by your sarcasm?" he asked caustically. Shifting on his bare feet, he settled Raphael with a deep glare, his features twisted. The air between them was heavy, thick. "Or better yet... am I supposed to care what you think?" He took a quick step forward, his eyes looking down at Raphael. "If I'd wanted your opinion on the subject, I would have sought you out." He raised both brows. "I didn't."

Mikey watched from the couch, his blue eyes wide. Even his motions towards the candy has ceased. Raphael, meanwhile, grew more and more irate from his position across from Donatello. He snapped, "Well, guess what? You got my opinion anyway. You know what I think, D? I think that you can deny it all you want, but this – THIS is what you really wanted." A green finger pointed at his brother's human form. "It just eats you alive that you ain't got what people up there got, that you can't walk the streets and go to some fancy school and all that other bullshit. And you know what makes you?"

Raphael snapped his hands and, in one fluid motion, he ripped the brochure and threw it to the ground.

"That makes you weak! That makes you a traitor."

"Raphael," Mikey said to the side. "Guys, stop. Please!"

Donnie's eyes lit up with a red-branded fury. "By all means, Raphael. Get it off your chest. Let me know what's going on inside that puny mind of yours. I would really love to know how the two wheels in your head turn to form a thought, because I truly have _no idea." _

"_You can't have this life, Donnie!_" Raphael yelled at the top of his lungs, the last word – his brother's name – catching in his throat. "You need to just forget about it! You're a turtle, you're a mutant, you're our brother! You're not this – this thing!"

Donnie closed his eyes briefly and when he re-opened them, they narrowed to the side, away from Raphael. "You don't know anything, Raphael." He looked back to his brother, his hands trembling at his sides. "And you don't know me."

"I know who you're supposed to be," Raphael snapped. The pieces of brochure still left in his fingers wilted under his grip. "And pretty soon, you're going to have to figure it out, too." He tossed the shredded paper to the floor with a growl. "As usual, we're all just waiting for you to catch up."

Raphael turned on his heel and moved to leave the room, but the noises were muted against the boiling rage building behind Donnie's eyes. Raphael was nearly out of the room when Donnie's hands moved of their own accord, jumping to the shuriken at his belt. He threw back an arm, a feral noise escaping him as he reeled back to throw -

A chain wrapped around his arm, catching his wrist and jolting him back painfully.

Donatello jerked his head to the side furiously, his gaze landing on Michelangelo at the other end of the chain. His little brother stood, his lips parted in a rare mask of anger. "Dude!" Mikey shrieked, his hands tight on the other end of the chain. "You were about to attack him from behind!"

With a fierce yell, Donnie yanked on his end of the chain, pulling the small turtle off his feet and slamming him into the living room floor. Mikey skidded across the floor with a yelp and came to a stop at Donnie's feet, his eyes clenched shut. No sooner had he re-opened them than a _naginata _blade came flying through the air at his face. Mikey's yell caught in his throat as the blade sliced through the air and cut straight through his kusarigama chains, splitting the links right next to his head with a loud metal crunch.

When he glanced fearfully at his side, he saw the blade embedded in the floor with the force of the blow, broken shards of chain all around. Above him, Donatello freed the blade with a grunt and then popped it back into place.

"Don't get in my way again," said Donatello.

* * *

Speeding through the night air, rooftop to rooftop, Donatello made his way towards April's apartment. There was no need to travel this way, not anymore, but the habit was old and hardly forgotten. It was easier than navigating the sidewalks, mingling with the pedestrians or making small-talk with strangers at the crosswalk.

Close now, Donnie slowed his run. Before he reached the antique shop that served as the foundation for April's apartment, he heard voices from the sidewalk, warm tones he knew so well. He peered over the edge, black mask tucked over his face.

"... nah, it's fine. No biggie."

April O'Neil, radiant as Donatello always remembered her, stepped away from the stoop outside of her arm. A figure moved beside her, instantly recognizable under unruly black hair. "Thanks for the help, Red." Casey Jones smiled. "My dad's been on my case about that class."

"Any time," said April kindly. They exchanged a hug and a few more words, but the exact nature of the conversation was lost to the chatter of a passing crowd. Casey playfully tucked April under the chin and the two shared a smile.

A pair of narrow red eyes watched.

* * *

Blinking from behind a pair of safety goggles, Donnie focused on the beaker in front of him, a dropper carefully poised in hand. The laboratory gave off its usual sounds, smells and filtered mechanical lighting, but today it had a different atmosphere. Everything was different. Or it would be.

In a moment.

Leaning over the mixture with gloved hand, Donnie squeezed a single drop of chemical into the beaker. It sizzled appropriately, a heady scent wafting through the air. Donnie leaned back, his eyes never leaving the mixture. When it churned and bubbled, he removed it from the heat and transferred it to another container. This one he placed in a large metal box. After an hour, he took it out and put another beaker into the liquid. This one he drew out and, finding a clean slide, he put a droplet there and then covered it.

With a deep breath, Donnie pressed the slide into place beneath the watchful eye of his microscope. Goggles pushed back into his black hair, he peered through the eyepiece. For a moment, nothing happened. And then -

A slow grin spread over his face. No sounds escaped him, no calls of joy or victory, but the thud-thud of his heart echoed loudly enough for all to hear. Leaning back in his chair, Donnie removed the slide and turned it over in his gloved fingers, one digit moving to draw affectionately down its length.

His chair shifted and swiveled slightly, and when it was turned far enough to the left, Donnie saw Baxter Stockman in his lonely corner of the lab. His grotesque face was turned in Donnie's direction, his buzzing and muttering gone silent as he watched the teen scientist.

Donnie's grin only grew, his slumped posture in the chair all the more victorious, relaxed under the other scientist's envious glare. Pausing to bite a bottom lip, Donatello turned a bright-eyed smirk to the slide once more. Then, with a great effort at carelessness, Donatello stood and poured the remainder of the liquid from his slid into a small tube. He corked it with a satisfying pop and then leaned down, pulling open one of his key-locked drawers. He placed the mixture within, not missing Stockman's watchful stare.

He locked it with a key that he dropped into the pocket of his jeans. Then, with one last smug look at Baxter Stockman, he left the lab.


	13. Chapter 13

Author's Note: Hey, hey! For all of you loving the intensity of these chapters, you'll get into this one. We're getting into the nitty gritty...

Thank you for your love! My life is better for it.

* * *

"So did I tell you..." Donnie's eyes lifted at April's words, her freckled face filling his vision. "... that I think my dad might be dating my aunt?"

Donnie's lips twitched at a smirk. "That is... strange."

April paused and then shot him an annoyed look. "She's my mom's sister, not his."

"Oh, well that's a little less strange," Donnie grinned. April poked him in the ribs and then turned over, settling comfortably against the cushioned lawn chair again. Donnie peered down at her pale form as it curled at his side like a cat. His arm was settled behind her head and one of his fingers absently brushed at her temple, touching the light strands of red hair that had escaped her ponytail. It was a pleasantly warm night, and they had jointly decided it was too nice a time to be indoors.

New York City wasn't ideal for stargazing by any means. The pollution was enough to purge the sky of much of its beauty and the lights stole away many of the twinkling lights from above. Still, they'd found the rooftop of Murakami's apartment building as good a place as any. And, as Donnie curled his arm tighter around April where lay pressed together in a cushioned lawn chair, he knew it was all they needed. They had each other, their peace and the timeless blanket of stars to comfort them.

It was worlds away from the dojo, from the lab. It was perfect.

"Does it bother you?" he asked April, fighting to remain attentive when they were all but wrapped up in one another.

April shrugged, her cheek pressed against the chest of his soft white t-shirt. "I mean... sort of? Not really. It's cool, I guess. I love my aunt, she's awesome. And my dad deserves to be happy. They both do. I just wish they'd like, I don't know, maybe _tell _me instead of trying to be sneaky about it?"

"Maybe they like being sneaky," Donnie volunteered. "Maybe it's part of the fun."

April wrinkled her nose and giggled. "Eugh, well... Whatever, I guess I'm glad I don't have too many details." She and Donnie laughed together. Her hand reached up and drummed lightly on his abdomen, and it warmed Donnie's heart to feel her so at ease with him. It was an intimacy he'd hoped to share with her since the beginning – not something overtly sexual, but a familiarity that only the two of them knew. An invisible string between their bodies that kept them tied together even when they were apart and drew them back together when the moment was right.

"How is everything going?" April asked, lifting her head a little to look up at him. The motion placed her face very close to his.

Donnie sighed softly. "It's coming along," he murmured, reaching up a hand to brush along her cheek. "The lab..."

"I don't mean the lab. I mean you." April caught his wandering hand and squeezed his fingers. "With your nightmares and stuff. Are they any better at all?"

A soft smile lifted Donnie's features. "They are when I'm with you."

As he'd expected, April flushed and hid her face in the front of his shirt for a moment. When she peered back up at him, she fought to keep a straight face. "I'm serious, Donnie. I'm worried about you. You won't tell me what they're about, but they keep you up at night. Sometimes you even scream or scratch yourself."

Donnie dropped his gaze briefly. If only she knew how bad he'd gotten on some nights, when she wasn't there to calm him or coax him back to sleep. "It's nothing. I thought about asking Master Shredder -"

A jolt stopped him in mid-sentence, April's brows furrowed. "_Master_ Shredder?"

Donnie blinked and then shifted on the chair, the cushions making soft swishing sounds beneath them. "Slip of the tongue. I have to talk to him a lot in the lab," he shrugged and then went on lightly. "It's not as if I can call him 'The Human Can-Opener' like Mikey does." April watched him curiously, briefly shifting her body until she was partly covering him. The motion turned her to face him so she didn't have to twist her head around to read his features.

He kept his face expressionless, meeting her stare unabashedly.

After a moment's inspection, April's seemed satisfied. She reached up and brushed a hand over his neck, her lashes dropping over a pair of blue eyes as she studied his skin. "You can't afford to slip up in front of him. I know." She paused uncertainly. "But.. hey, I mean. If there's something... anything... you want to talk about." She brought her gaze up to his. "You can. With me. You know that, right?"

"Of course," he answered without hesitation.

"So... nothing is wrong?"

With a slow reach that linked around her hips, Donnie pulled April up the length of his body until she was poised over him, cradled by the patterned cushions on either side of their long chair. She hovered only an inch or two his relaxed form, some of her weight still falling to her knees.

He cradled her face, his red eyes alert. "Everything is exactly as it should be, April. I promise."

When she nodded, her posture finally relaxed and Donnie used the hands on her face to tug her to him. This time, when their lips met, the frantic speed from before was replaced by a slow, drawn out kiss that left them both breathless. They hadn't kissed since that night at Murakami's over two weeks ago and Donnie quickly decided that was _too long. _

Hands rough from the grip of a staff reached up and fingers curled into the belt loops of April's shorts, drawing her to him in a lazy roll that poured into every inch of the space that had once been between them. Her hips made contact first, pressing against him until her torso followed suit and Donnie wasted no time ensnaring her in his arms. The friction was the best kind of torture, a longing that weighed all the heavier with years of love and admiration as its foundation. He didn't just want her to satisfy the onslaught of desire that battled for control of his body. He desired her because everything in his life felt like an adjective to describe the all-encompassing love he felt for her, every action a consequence of his devotion.

No force in the world aside April's own very word could stop him, and even then, the love would remain as his solitary possession. To place it elsewhere was unthinkable.

One of his long legs curled around April's and she gave no objection, a breathy sigh making her body shudder over his. In his nightmares, the heat and fire followed him everywhere he went, turning his skin to painful ashes. Now, with April rocking against him in an unconscious effort to satisfy the primal design of human nature, that same burn was something he hoped never to escape.

His earlier excuse about certain things made easier to control by a shell was null and void at this point. There was nothing in the known universe that could have stopped his reaction, how he felt as April dipped her head and Donnie used the motion to deepen the kiss, taste her tongue with his and curl his fingers in her shirt an effort not to flip her over and give in, to touch her bare skin or move his lips to other places.

Like the delicate skin below her navel. Or the center of her ribcage. Or any number of other places that flashed across Donnie's mind in a hectic slide show of taunts. Even as he felt her knees tighten on either side of his hips, April pulled away with a hard swallow and clenched her eyes shut. Donnie did the same, willing himself to be disciplined.

It was very, very, _very_ difficult.

April shifted back to her side of the lawn chair, wide enough to allow them to lie side by side when pressed against one another. Several long minutes of silence passed as the two of them gazed up at the smog-laced stars, their original purpose for settling on Murakami's rooftop that night.

"Hey look," Donnie blurted out after almost fifteen minutes. He pointed weakly. "The Big Dipper."

* * *

The reflective blade twirled in his fingers, and occasionally it would afford him the glimpse of his own blue eyes. The expression he saw there made him uncomfortable, so Leonardo tucked the blade into his palm and refused to twirl it further. It was small enough to fit in the inside of his hand wrappings, and even though he'd carried other blades before, this one alone now kept its home there.

Heavy arms layered on his upraised knees, Leo stared into space from his spot atop the winding staircase in his family's living room. Raphael and Michelangelo sat below him, watching something inane on television and fighting over a bowl of snacks. Leo might have stayed where he was on his lone perch, if not for his third brother making a rare and sudden appearance below.

"Donnie," Leo jumped up from his spot, skillfully dropping down to the floor a moment later. The blade slipped into his bindings, out of view.

Donnie blinked up at him in surprise, as if he'd forgotten they all lived there. He was the one who hadn't been home in an entire week. Mikey and Raph looked up from their spots on the couch. "Oh, hey." Donnie gave them all a little wave. "I finally got to make it home for a little while. It's been stressful in the lab."

Leo's brows furrowed. His brother's tone was so light, so noncommittal. He watched as Donatello moved around them, obviously focused on finding something. The last few times he'd come home, Mikey had jumped up to greet him with a tight hug and a thousand lamentations about how much he needed Donnie back home. Now, he and Raphael stood uncertainly near the couch, neither moving closer to Donnie nor talking to him. Leo observed his brothers' behavior thoughtfully. Mikey had mentioned that Donnie had lost his temper with Raph, but he hadn't gone into any more detail than that and no amount of coaxing could make him talk. Raphael mentioned an argument, but apparently he hadn't seen what Mikey had seen.

"So how's things going in the lab?" Leonardo asked carefully, unmoving as he watched Donnie move about casually.

His brother shrugged. "It's getting there." He turned to face the three of them and flashed an oblivious smile to his brothers' indifference. "And now that I have the lab all to myself, things should move a lot faster."

Leo tilted his head. "All to yourself? What happened to Stockman?" Donatello kicked the cabinet door closed and moved around Leonardo, his hands full of massive pile of tangled cords. He dumped them all on a small table and began sorting through them. Then he said, over his shoulder in the most dismissive of tones -

"Stockman is dead. Shredder killed him."

Silence. The three brothers glanced at each other warily, even as Donatello continued his work of unraveling the angry nest of black wires. "He.. _killed_ him?" asked Leonardo in disbelief.

Donnie glanced up and lifted both brows. "Yes. You know?" He whipped a finger over the front of his throat with an unnecessary '_crrshh_' sound. "Dead." He smirked and turned away again.

This time, Raphael stepped forward, his shoulders hunched aggressively. "Shredder wouldn't do that. He needs Stockman and he knows it."

This time, Donnie's response was sardonic, condescending. "Needs him? Needs him for what, Raphael? His little inventions? His science?" His hands ripped at the cords with force, his gaze shifting back to the task. "Hardly." He yanked on one cord and dropped it carelessly to the side. "He has me. He doesn't need Stockman anymore."

Raphael grunted, his green eyes flashing. "Shredder could have killed him a thousand times over now. And you're telling me he just now decided he didn't want him around anymore?"

"Stockman would have left Shredder willingly, he didn't want to be there. Shredder didn't have to kill him," Leonardo pointed out, his heart pounding behind the plating of his plastron. His mind raced, a curious sort of pity welling up inside of him. Pity mixed with guilt. They were the whole reason Stockman had gotten mixed up with Shredder. Maybe if they hadn't... maybe if they _had... _

"Well, it doesn't matter now, does it?" Donnie tossed down the bundle of wires, as if the conversation was an unwelcome distraction to his efforts. "He's gone." Leonardo peeked over at his curiously silent brother. Michelangelo stood off to the side, and something on his features made Leo's heart twist further, if possible. He looked frightened. Looking back to Donatello, Leonardo set his mouth in a tight grimace.

"And what about the retro-mutagen? Didn't you need Stockman's help?" asked Raphael.

The sound of Donatello's chuckle pervaded his mind in the most invasive way. His brother straightened away from the table and looked down at them from under heavy lids, his gaze darkly amused and outlined with warning.

"Take my word for it, Raphael," Donnie's eyes lifted to Leonardo's. "That man is no more useful in a lab than he is in a _morgue_."

* * *

"Damn it," Raphael shoved aside some empty boxes. Who the hell kept eating cereal and leaving the empty boxes in here? Instinctively, he wanted to blame Mikey, but The Good Son Leonardo was guilty on the occasion and it felt better to take it out on him anyway. Grumbling, Raphael finally found some Captain Crunch that wasn't totally gone and turned to pour it into a bowl.

He dropped it to the ground when someone ran straight into him and nearly knocked his bowl off the counter.

"Raph!" the figure exclaimed, making the red-banded turtle scowl.

"Damn it, Casey, you doofus! The hell you runnin' around here for?" Raphael bent to retrieve his box of cereal and when he straightened, Casey Jones' worried features clouded his vision.

"Dude, I need to talk to you," the teen pulled up a bar stool and did a quick check of the kitchen, obviously looking for prying ears. Raphael rolled his eyes and filled his bowl. He'd be damned if Casey's motor-mouth kept him from enjoying his dinner. "Well? Go on then," he told his friend. He paused when he spotted Casey's hesitation, the anxious jump of his body as he fought to remain sitting on the stool.

"I... I think something's wrong with Donnie," said Casey finally. Raphael blinked and dropped onto his stool, giving Casey only a moment's look before he turned to his bowl and poured in some milk. "Oh yeah?" he asked, uninterested. Casey sighed and leaned over the counter, pushing his face into Raphael's line of sight.

"Yes, dude!" he said emphatically. "I mean, haven't you noticed him acting weird lately? Hasn't he seemed a little – I don't know – _batshit insane?_"

Raphael knocked his bowl away, his green eyes immediately narrowing on Casey. "Hey, you're just upset 'cause he and April have been spending so much time together."

"What? No, dude. It's not like that -"

"There is nothing wrong with Donnie," Raphael growled, his irritation already finding its peak. "You're just jealous or somethin'."

Casey huffed. "I am not, will you just listen to me?"

"You shut your mouth about Donnie," Raphael said heatedly, jabbing a finger at Casey's chest. "You're just mad about April and you want to take it out on him. You always do this."

"Damn it, Raph! How many times do I gotta say it? This isn't like that!" When Raphael moved away from the counter, Casey followed, his hands waving frantically. "Hey, pay attention to me!" Casey grabbed Raphael's arm and spun him around. Raphael flinched at the contact, his body drawing away from the grip of Casey's hands on his arms. The sincere look of panic on his friend's face caused him to balk further.

"Look," Casey said quietly, his voice determined. "I know Donnie's not a bad guy. I knew it before and I know it now. That is not what this is about. I – I think something's really going on."

"There's nothing going on, Casey! Donnie's going through a lot, just leave him the hell alone!"

"Something is wrong with him, Raph!"

"There's nothing wrong with Donnie!"

"He threatened to _kill me, _Raphael_!" _

The tense exchange came to a halt. Raphael eyed Casey, his jaw clenched. Casey continued in low, heated tones. "And I don't mean like – ha ha, I'm going to kill you, bro. But like he probably would have done it if April hadn't been nearby." Raphael jerked away from Casey, his face turning away to the dim lighting of the kitchen.

"Donnie wouldn't say that."

"I know, which is why I'm coming to you now. Because he did say it to me and I know that no matter what I've ever said or thought about him, making threats like that is not something he'd normally do!" Casey exhaled, his head dropping back as his eyes turned to the ceiling. "Look, I've been hanging out with April a few nights a week to study for my summer school. Seriously, that's it." He looked back at Raphael. "And then the other night, Donnie just – appeared out of nowhere, all dressed in that Shredder crap. I guess he thought April had already gone inside because he told me if he ever saw me near her again, he'd kill me. And then April came back outside – and he just, suddenly dropped the whole thing and left."

Raphael grew quiet, every motion in his body and mind an effort to push away the images behind Casey's words. To prove them a lie. Everything he knew about his brother screamed at him that this wasn't true. But then – those other things, these past several months. Everything that had happened since Donnie's accident. Little Mikey seemed absolutely terrified of him now.

"Donnie... He wouldn't say that," Raphael said again, but this time his voice was small and strangely cracked. "He wouldn't."

Casey shuffled forward, his head low. "I know. I know, dude... which is why I think he needs our help. Before it's too late." He sighed deeply. "And... you know what the worst part is?"

Raphael raised a brow at him.

"I don't think April's got any idea," said Casey. "And she's alone with him all the time..."

"You don't think he'd actually hurt her, do ya?"

Casey hesitated. "Well, … no. But I do think he might put her in danger."

Raphael nodded slowly. "Yeah," he whispered.

* * *

_Three Days Ago_

_Deep below the streets of New York, the laboratory housing Oroku Saki's scientific ventures sat empty. The machines were quiet, powered down and in a mechanical sleep. The chairs sat under desks, no occupants to stir them. The only lights in the room blinked on idle keyboards, waiting for the morning to come and the work to begin once more. _

_Without warning, the overhead lights clicked on. _

_One of by one, bulbs of fluorescent lighting flooded the area. The grey walls of steel shimmered between the many shadows, one of which moved across the room with twitchy movements and soft excitable buzzes. The mutated form of Baxter Stockman, once a man and now a grotesque caricature of a fly, snickered to himself in delight as he moved to the desk of his co-worker. _

"_Foolish boy," he whispered to himself, his pleasure mounting with every passing moment as he pulled a key from his pocket. Fixing it into the low desk drawer, he wiggled it about for a moment before tugging the drawer free. Inside – just as he'd known it would be – was a canister of glowing liquid that caused him to let loose a whoop of joy. _

_Human! Human, at last! _

_The boy had perfected the retro-mutagen and left it hidden in the drawer, but he – Baxter Stockman! - had seen it, had surmised its purpose. Not only could he use this to cure himself, but with this viable sample of retro-mutagen in hand, he could replicate it on his own later._

_And with that, have a cure that he could ransom off or lord over any who dared to defy him. _

_Loading the liquid into a syringe, Stockman pushed away from the desk. With one last triumphant squeal, he jabbed the needle into his arm and closed his many beady eyes. The syringe dropped from his fingers when the retro-mutagen began to take its effect._

_And the the burning began. The liquid heat traveled through his veins and the sensation of a thousand needles piercing his every inch of skin dropped him straight to the floor. He began to scream, a horrifying blend of buzzes, yelps and cries that had him rocking side to side. The floor sizzled beneath him and he realized it was his flesh, melting away from bone and creating pockets of molten floor beneath him. His limbs twisted and ached, oh god, they ached! The pain snapped his head back, his spine shattered and his organs roasted. _

_Distantly, his agonized mind registered footsteps. _

"_Hmm," came the voice from above him, and the twisted assault of his vision turned up to see the face of that – wretched, God damn fool boy! His fingers melted and slid off the joints, one by one, as the boy called Hisoka stooped over him with a pensive tilt of his head. _

"_So that's what it does..." the boy said, his dark eyes amused. "Fascinating." _

_Reaching into his pocket, Hisoka pulled out a vial not unlike the one Stockman had just emptied. However, the liquid inside was a light orange, rather than the pink he'd injected straight into his slowly disintegrating body before it writhed helplessly on the floor._

"_Oh, Stockman," said the boy languidly, even as he suffered. "You shouldn't touch things that don't belong to you." Twisting the vial in his fingertips, he chuckled quietly, his eyes dancing over the liquid. "You know what the funniest part is?" He tucked the vial away and leaned close. "I've had the retro-mutagen for __**weeks**__." _

_He straightened from the remains of Baxter Stockman as the last moments of clarity left him, the corrosive element finally reaching his brain and the pain overtaking him. _

"_I'd like to say you'll learn a lesson from all this," said Hisoka as he turned away. He tossed a smirk over his shoulder. _

"_But you won't." _


	14. Chapter 14

Author's Note: Oh my god, you guys. You guys. I am so excited and honored by the love for this story. I know seeing Donnie this way is a bit heart-breaking for some, but be strong! Why? Because it's only going to get worse from here...

PS – 15 Chapters. This story will have 15 total chapters. Harden your hearts.

* * *

Sirens wailed in the distance. Somewhere below, a shopkeeper called out to his last employee, accusing him of leaving the safe unlocked. Doors clicked and jingled as people turned in for the evening, but the streets of New York grew more alive with its second wave, the dark rebirth it was so well known for.

A night creature of a different sort sat on the high awning of an aged business office, his arms folded over upraised knees. Warm wind rolled over the rooftop and rippled the dark fabric. Donatello wasn't sure how long he had been there, still as stone.

He also wasn't sure how long Leonardo had been there as well, watching him from one of the dark corners.

He only knew his stealthy brother was there because Leo allowed it. Another notch in his ninjutsu belt – Leonardo was the quietest of them all, both in personality and discipline. If people knew he was there, it was only because he desired it. Which meant he wanted Donatello to know he was watching him. Inwardly, the younger brother seethed at the arrogance of it all.

Leonardo. The leader.

The thought almost made him chuckle. What a kinship he could share with Raphael now, he thought bitterly. A shared resentment of the pecking order. After careful consideration, Donnie tilted his head in the aforementioned leader's direction. "Can I help you, Leonardo?"

His brother moved silently, wind catching the tails of his mask. His footfalls were casual and unhurried, his hands empty at his sides. And why shouldn't they be? They were brothers. There was no need to treat one another as enemies. Not yet. "Just checking on you," he said, his tones even and careful. "You've been distant lately."

Donnie cocked his head in Leonardo's direction. Ha. As if he had room to talk, brooding and sullen as he was. "That's true," Donatello conceded. His gaze turned back to the streets and the flash of colors that lined them. "I've _felt_ distant. Think you can explain why that is?"

Leonardo shrugged in response, his brow ridges lifted. "I was hoping you could."

The two fell silent, each looking away from the other but keenly aware of each other's presence. Leonardo came to stand next to him, his head lifted in the same direction as his brother's. "I think this has gone on long enough," he said after several minutes of silence, with authority. "You should come home."

Donnie's features twitched and the effort to stay still was infuriating. His jaw ached with the grinding force of his frustration, his limbs tight and pulsing. Leonardo – _Oh_, _Leonardo_. "I still have work to do," he said blankly to the wind. The two refused to look at one another. The air felt hot and dry. "I have to cure Karai, remember?" In response, Leonardo folded his arms over his chest, his eyes following the heavy line of traffic below. "We haven't even seen Karai in weeks, Donatello. I think it's more important -"

"We have her."

Silence. Eventually, blue eyes moved to Donnie's face, even as the two brothers remained stoic. "You have her? At Shredder's lair?" An edge lined his normally controlled tone and it made Donnie's shoulders lift in pleasure to know he had managed to rile his cool and collected brother.

"We've had her for weeks," Donnie turned to face him.

"Why didn't you _say_ anything?"

"Why would I? So you could bust in and blow my cover? So you could cure her yourself? You still need me in Shredder's lab." Donnie narrowed his eyes. "Does it matter where she is?"

If he hadn't known his brother so well, he might have missed the enraged ticking of Leonardo's mouth. "Of course it matters," he growled lowly. "That maniac Shredder has no business keeping her locked away. She deserves to be with her real family." He stepped closer, his expression drawn into an increasingly hostile glare. "And that was the plan, Donnie. The plan you came up with and we all agreed to. You were supposed to keep her _safe." _

"And I did," he replied caustically. "She's perfectly safe at Shredder's lair. Why does it matter if she's in a cage there or in a cage at Splinter's? So you can stare her and feel sorry for yourself?"

"That was not your decision to make_,"_ Leonardo snarled, his rare temper meeting its peak. "You kept her hidden on purpose! Her mutation is growing worse and worse with each passing day!"

Donatello snorted derisively. "Why are you acting like all of this is my fault, anyway?" He pointed a finger at Leonardo. "You're the one who _dropped_ her in the mutagen."

The city fell strangely quiet, a hush that became deafening on the solitary rooftop. Something in Donatello's chest twinged uncomfortably at the look on his brother's face, the incredulous look of dismay that contorted Leonardo's features. He took a step back as if he'd been hit, his feet shuffling beneath him clumsily. Before Donnie had the time to process the tiny stirrings of remorse, Leonardo had set his jaw and straightened once more.

When his spoke, no hint of familiarity or warmth colored his tones.

"Cure Karai," he commanded darkly. "Cure the mutated citizens. After that, you can either cure yourself or don't. Stay or leave." He lifted his head, his eyes narrowed and white. "I don't give a damn _what_ you do." Long green fingers twisted into shaking fists at his sides. "You're no family of mine. Not like this."

He turned and disappeared without another word.

Car horns blared up from the streets below, wafting through the air to mix with the barrage of odors and smog. Donatello stood on the roof, a lone silhouette against the city nightline, his brother's words echoing in his ears. They spoke to a part of him that hadn't listened for weeks, something buried and deep. That feeling flared to life in his chest, but it was difficult to hold on to. It felt so far away, cocooned in something new and cold like freshly molded steel. Donnie's eyes dropped to the grungy rooftop, a frown marring his features. He swallowed, an uncomfortable sensation prompting him to move, move, move far away.

* * *

He came back to the lair. The lair he'd grown up in, not the ominous hall he'd spent so much time in during the last several months. It was dark and he knew his brothers were out, patrolling the streets of New York and possibly sharing jabs and insults at Donnie's expense. An unpleasant taste filled his mouth at the thought of them all out there together, but he wasn't sure if it the desire was to be a part of them or tear them apart.

Stumbling into the dark dojo, Donnie looked around wildly until he spotted the door to Master Splinter's room. Without announcing himself, Donnie flung the door open and hurried inside.

Master Splinter – a man once known as the powerful ninjutsu master Hamato Yoshi – sat in a meditative stance, his eyes closed and clawed hands in a carefully maintained position just above his knees. He opened his eyes and turned to Donatello, looking not at all surprised to see his transformed son at his door, panting as if he'd just escaped a madman.

Donnie stumbled and dropped heavily in front of his adopted father, and it wasn't until he saw the gathering moisture on the floor that he realized he was crying. He might've been crying the whole run from the rooftop to here. He wasn't sure. When he looked up at Master Splinter, his vision was blurred and irritated, the world a mixture of greys.

"My son," came Splinter's calming tones. "What troubles you?"

Donatello sucked in a shaky breath and now the tears were almost suffocating. He bent over on his knees, his hands flat on the rug in front of him, his head bowed as low as he could manage.

"Master Splinter, I... I don't know what to do."

"You know what to do, Donatello." Clawed fingertips brushed Donnie's chin and drew him from his crouch, wise eyes meeting his as he managed to look up. "You only need to gather your resources to do it. You must find your strength, your discipline and your _reason. _All of these things will fuel your spirit. You are in control, my son. Do not forget that."

"I don't feel like I'm in control," he whispered fearfully.

"You fool yourself," the elderly rat said softly. "Your abilities are your own. You decisions are your own. These are the things that shape you, Donatello. But you can only build from things you have taken into yourself, not that which you have ignored. Be careful what these things are, for the removal of even one of them may cause you to fall."

Donatello's hands trembled in his laps, his eyes staring straightforward and past Splinter.

"I need to tell you something," he murmured shakily. He met Splinter's gaze. "When I was working on the retro-mutagen here at home, when I had my accident..." he swallowed, his cheeks wet with tears. "I was – I used a -" he exhaled heavily. "I used some of your blood."

Master Splinter tilted his head curiously. "My blood?" he repeated.

"Yes," Donnie rushed, his motions imploring. "I – I know I should have asked you, but I didn't think this was going to happen! The only reason I even had it was because of the fight with Shredder when Karai got mutated. I took some of it from the injury on your arm and -"

"Injury?" Splinter folded his hands in his lap. "I was not injured on that day."

Donnie's babbling came to an abrupt stop. "What? Of course you were," he said, flustered. "I took the blood from your arm on the way back home, it was all over your fur," he explained heatedly, giving his own face a furious swipe.

Splinter paused thoughtfully and then shook his head once more. "I fought briefly that day, but I was not injured. If you took blood from my fur, Donatello, it was not mine."

Donnie's brows furrowed, his sobbing gasps falling away to confused growls. "But that's impossible, if it wasn't your blood then who's -" Realization washed over him like an icy wave, engulfing his beating heart.

Shredder. Oroku Saki.

Horrified, Donatello's face lifted to Master Splinter's, his hands dropping away and falling limply to his sides. The remorse, the tangible feeling of nostalgia that had spurned him on just a short while before crumbled away beneath a growing numbness.

"Donatello," Master Splinter quickly stood and moved over to his son, crouching next to him. When he reached up a hand to Donnie's shoulder, he yanked away, his expression alight with fury. "Don't!" Donnie growled, tumbling back and into the corner of the dojo.

Distantly, Master Splinter's voice called out to him, begging for his attention, asking him to be calm, but Donnie could hear or see nothing except that god damn _fire. _

_The fire. The house. The maze that led him away from where he'd been to the cavernous pit that trapped him there, forever keeping him enclosed in darkness. _

Donnie's fingers clawed at the sleeves of his clothes and it was only when Master Splinter's voice broke through the echo of a lost memory did he realize that the heaving, gut-wrenching sounds of despair were coming from _him. _

"Donatello!" Hamato Yoshi exclaimed, but his son was already up and out of the dojo, running full speed through the darkness and blasting through the door without so much as a glance back.

* * *

He didn't stop running, not even when his body screamed at him in protest. Flying through the doors of the converted sanctuary, Donnie hurried past the Foot soldiers who knew his face and allowed him to pass. He raced down the stairs and through the locked doors, a simple swipe of his fingers enough to allow him passage. When he finally came to his destination, his knees buckled and dropped to the floor with a painful crack. His heavy gasps echoed throughout the room, but it was still several moments before Oroku Saki turned in his spot to face the young man kneeling in front of him.

"Hisoka," he said in greeting, his head lifted in anticipation.

Donnie swallowed, his throat dry and scratchy. Fingers moved to his aching knees and curled there. His head dropped low in a bow and his chest moving in tandem with each deep breath.

"Master Shredder," he said quietly, a strange calm settling over him. It was a comforting cloak. "I have something I need to tell you."

* * *

April O'Neil made a face at her homework, the eraser end of her pencil tapping absently against the paper. She'd been working for nearly an hour and had made very little progress, but it really wasn't her fault. She was worried sick about Donnie. She hadn't heard from him in almost two days, which was unusual, even for his busy schedule. Finally deciding she could work no longer, the redhead stood and gathered her books, stooping next to her bed to shove them back into her backpack.

She straightened with a jolt when her window flew open.

"What the -"

A silhouette dropped inside her bedroom, landing smoothly with a hop. April blinked and then exhaled in relief. "Raphael!" She hurried over and closed the window behind him, her strawberry blond brows furrowed. "What's up?" she asked, glancing outside for any sign of his brothers.

"Is Donnie here?" Raphael asked abruptly, his body language unusually cagey.

April turned to face him with a bewildered look. "No, I haven't seen him in almost two days. Why?" Raphael moved around her, checking the corners of her room and peering out of the window. April huffed. "Hey, dude. A little info, please? What's going on?"

Raphael glanced at her uncertainly and then looked back at the window, his fingers twitching at his sides. "Nothin'," he said with an indifferent shrug that didn't fool April for a minute.

She tugged on his wrist, concern welling in her chest. "Don't give me that crap. Something's happening. What is it? Is anyone hurt?"

Raphael grunted and shifted his inspection to her, her eyes scanning her as if he were checking for injuries. "Just – Okay, whatever. I just need ya to come with me, okay?" he touched both of her arms, ready to drag her out of the room if necessary.

But then the window opened again without a noise, and if April hadn't been looking over Raph's shoulder, she might've missed his slim shadow.

"Donnie! There you are!"

To her surprise, Raphael swiftly turned in front of her, effectively shielding her behind him. "Raph," she poked at his arm in confusion but the bulky turtle only kept where he was. She peeked over his shoulder to see Donnie step down from her window, his eyes narrowed above the black fabric of his mask. He was fully dressed in his armor, she realized belatedly, and now her limbs grew weak with uncertainty, her eyes darting back and forth between the brothers. Her vision clouded around the weapon strapped firmly to Donnie's back, cool and threatening in its sheath.

"What are you doing here, Raphael?" asked Donatello, flat and menacing as April had never heard him before. The stillness he kept was alarming, the most inhuman feature of his peculiar appearance. Raphael shifted on his spot, drawing his shoulders up further, his expression unmoved.

"Visiting a friend. That illegal?"

"Leave," the other snarled from behind his mask.

April's lips parted in shock and she moved to get around Raphael. "Hey, what's the big idea? Donnie, stop being a jerk." Raphael's large arm jumped in front of her and kept her back; a spike of fear pierced her heart when she saw Donnie's eyes follow the motion with a feral glare.

She looked between them again, alarm filling her.

"Stop it, now!" she commanded them both. "Whatever's going on, just – stop it right now. Donnie, are you even paying attention to me?" But his eyes remained trained on Raphael's form, and even though the mask concealed most of his expression, there was no disguising the barely contained fury. Suddenly, Raphael's protective arm felt like an anchor she desperately needed to stay afloat. Fear replaced blood in her veins as she looked back at the dark figure of Donatello. What was he _doing? _What the hell was wrong with him?

"He's not talkin' to you right now, April." Raphael spoke to her, but kept his eyes on the frigid figure of his brother. He snorted in disgust, eyeing the other male up and down. "He's allllll upset because I'm here. Ain't that right, Don? I bet this just drives you insane, huh?"

April's hand snatched at his arm and she hissed lowly, "What are you _doing?" _Raphael turned just enough to hide his face from Donnie, his mouth low to her ear and green eyes crinkled at the corners. After a lengthy pause, he exhaled.

"Proving a point," he whispered sadly.

When he faced Donnie once more, his belligerent expression was firmly back in place. He paced, never leaving April open to his brother, his posture radiating arrogance even as Donatello remained deathly silent.

"I mean, come on. Be honest, Donnie. Would it bother you if I came to see April without ya?" He pointed over his shoulder at the pale teenage girl. "After all, you spend a whole lotta time with Shredder now a days. For all you know, I could be here with April every second you're not. I could hang out with her all damn day and you'd never know the difference."

"You do not," came the unfamiliar voice from Donnie.

"Gotta disagree with you, D," he taunted. Raphael slowed his pacing, his head tilting level with Donnie's, both their gazes low and narrowed. "Lets be fair. She's my friend, too, right? You gotta learn to share a little. With me, with Leo, with _Casey_..." he trailed off and now even April could see the bone-wrenching way Donatello held his body, as if it physically pained him to keep still, his eyes ticking over Raphael in jerky, unnatural movements.

"In fact, I don't think she's safe here anymore," said Raphael suddenly. "So you know what? I'm takin' her with me back to the lair. Say goodbye, Don -"

"YAH!"

April barely had time to let out a shriek before Raphael shoved her back into the wall, his sai flying through the air just in time to stop the swift fall of Donnie's blade. His other hand joined it in a flash and he pushed back against Donnie's weight as it bared down on him. The metallic sound of the weapons grating against each other shocked April into action. She jumped up from her spot with a yelp, her eyes wide. "Raph!"

"Get out of here!" he yelled over his shoulder before he shoved against Donnie with a loud grunt. "Casey's on the street! Go! Now!"

The air whistled around Donnie's blade as it sliced through the air at his head and April barely contained a horrified scream when it nearly made contact with the other turtle's neck. "GO!" Raphael roared before he jumped at Donatello and the two of them crashed into April's desk, battered pieces of wood raining down on the floor. Donnie threw him off with a yell and cut through the air with one end of his blade, his head snapping in April's direction as she whimpered.

She stared at him for only a split-second before bolting through the door of her bedroom, feet pounding on the stairs even as she heard him call her name in a furious yell. Then the sounds of battle resumed and the crashing of what could have only been her bed echoed throughout the home.

"April!" A pair of arms snatched her middle and Casey Jones tugged her down the stairs, even as April cried and pointed back up to her room.

"Go help Raph and Donnie! I mean, go – go stop them from fighting, go do something -"

"I gotta get you outta here," Casey shook his head hurriedly, never letting her out from under his arm, even when a window shattered upstairs. April tried to pull away, panicked tears flooding her vision. "Casey! You can't just leave them!"

"I promised Raph I'd get you out of here, now come on!"

April fought and struggled, terror seizing her heart as she heard yet another crash sound from her bedroom. The two teenagers ran into the outdoor air just as a thunderous shattering of glass made them look up. Donnie flew out of her window and hit his back on the railing of the fire escape, his body jolting painfully against the old iron, but they only saw him for a minute before he darted back inside with a wild yell.

While she was distracted, Casey shoved April into the back of a van she didn't recognize and then jumped into the driver's seat. "Casey!" April shrieked from inside, fighting her way to the front. "_Do not leave them_!"

"Damn it, woman! Stop screaming and call Leo!" Casey tossed his phone back at her even as he swerved to avoid traffic. April sucked in a greedy breath and composed herself long enough to phone the eldest turtle. When he answered, she could manage only two tearful words.

"It's Donnie."

* * *

Glass littered the sidewalk, many of the sharp edges colored with blood. Leonardo edged around the pieces and turned his gaze higher. The fire escape next to April's bedroom window was now hanging by a single joint, disrupted after so many years of solemn service. It creaked in the wind.

"Come on," he told Mikey as the two hurried inside the empty antique store. However, at the bottom of the stairs, he paused and looked to his youngest brother thoughtfully. "Mikey, maybe you should -"

"Don't tell me to wait behind, bro." The orange-banded brother's lips tightened in an unusually firm grimace. "We've gotta find Raphael." Leonardo stared for a moment before he nodded resolutely, turning back to the stairs. When he reached the landing, he knew without searching which door was April's. It was lying in the middle of the hallway, splintered down the middle and ornamented in blood.

With a clenched jaw, Leonardo stepped into the wreckage that had once been April's room. Her window gaped open, curtains billowing in the wind. The lights were either broken or turned off and the room danced with shadows. No one appeared to be there, even though April's frantic call had come only ten minutes before they'd managed to arrive. Broken pieces of furniture littered the floor underfoot and they both tread carefully, occasionally shifting aside pieces when they had to.

"Looks like a tornado came through here," Mikey murmured quietly.

Leonardo stood in the center of the room and did a full circle. Piles of debris gathered in many corners of the room and he was moments away from ordering Mikey to sift through them when a groan drew his attention. Mikey was faster, at Raphael's side in an instant and shoving away a heavy bookshelf that had landed on his brother's mangled body. It was hard to tell if the weight of the shelf or the many cuts to his arms and plastron had him to the point of unconsciousness, but for the moment, it didn't matter.

"Raph!"

Leonardo dropped to his brother's side, his heart pounding behind his plastron. Mikey made a valiant effort to cover his whimper but he heard it anyway. It matched the one welling inside his own chest, even as his trembling fingers moved over Raphael's bloody features. "He's hurt real bad," Mikey whispered, looking to Leonardo for guidance. "But he's alive," Leonardo added firmly. Then he shifted forward and slipped his arms under Raphael's shell.

"Clear a path and then call Casey. We're going to need the van."

* * *

April watched as the two turtles and Casey moved Raphael as gingerly as they could to the couch in the lair, but even seeing him finally back in relative safety didn't take away the guilt, the burning shame, the horror. Hand curled at her chin, she occasionally nibbled on the tips of her fingers as the brothers got Raphael into position and quickly began treating him to the best of their abilities.

They knew enough about their own bodies, their own physiology to help some. They could repair basic wounds like those sustained in training, stop bleeding, set dislocated joints. But Raphael was just a few soft breaths away from death and nothing they did seemed to improve his condition. April pressed trembling fingertips to her eyes, a thousand images flashing through her mind even as she tried to ward them away.

Donnie. _Donnie_.

She had to see him. She had to talk to him. She could still pull him back, still coerce him. She'd seen his look to her in her bedroom, a naked stare that had begged her not to flee. Now he was still out there somewhere, nowhere to be found among the wasteland he and Raphael had left in her apartment. He was waiting, searching for her.

And soon he'd come here, because he was not the enemy. He knew this place.

Quietly stepping away from the turtles as they fussed over Raphael, April steeled her resolve and darted away, leaving through the hidden door to the sewers. She didn't know where Donatello was, but it didn't matter. If she got out of here and into the open...

… he would find her.

* * *

The lawnchair was still there.

Later on, April would reflect on how lonely it looked, situated on the scarred rooftop without the happy couple that had stretched out on it just a few days before, gazing at the stars and exchanging wistful whispers. Her features crumbling, April turned in a slow circle on the rooftop of Murakami's apartment. She'd come as quickly as she could, fearful of Leonardo noticing her absence. But he hadn't and now she was alone.

A deep breath steadied her, even as questions assaulted her mind. What if Donnie had been captured? What if Shredder was forcing him to act this way, what if he was acting under duress? Wind howled high above the streets of New York city and tugged at April's hair.

She waited.

"April?"

She twisted so quickly it cracked her spine, her blue eyes wide. The two stood far apart, each manning one end of the rooftop. Donatello took an uncertain step away from the edge and she knew from the way he walked that he was hurt. And yet somehow he had managed to remain relatively unscathed in comparison to Raphael, who was fading away on the turtle's couch with every passing moment. Cuts and tears decorated Donnie's armor and when he reached up to pull his mask away, a long thin slice wound its way down one cheek. The mark of a sai, April knew.

Even so, his first reaction upon seeing her was a brilliant smile.

"Donnie," April murmured, and even though she'd schooled herself in all the ways she should react to seeing him again – anger, distrust, a vehement demand to know what the hell his problem was – she found herself hurrying over the rooftop and jumping into his arms, desperate to know that what she'd seen had been a terrible nightmare and nothing more. He responded by wrapping her up into his arms with a strangled noise of despair, his head tucking into her shoulder. April sniffled at the familiar motion, grief tearing at her chest. She pulled away just long enough to examine his face, her hand tenderly drawing along the cut there.

"Are you okay?" he asked before she could.

April swallowed and nodded, her body trembling violently. "I'm okay, but... but I need you to come with me, okay?" she drew him close, and even though a part of her genuinely wanted to keep him there and know that this was the same sweet, thoughtful guy she had always known, she also recognized a deeper motivation. Much as she wanted to file away this night in the dark recesses of her memory, she knew it had been real. The strangely manic look he gave her now, panicked and animal-like was something she knew to be dangerous.

She had to keep him calm. To draw him away from whatever edge he balanced so precariously.

"Just come with me and everything will be okay, Donnie," she whispered softly. She kissed the uninjured cheek, her other hand finding the warm skin of his neck beneath the collar of his armor. "Everything will be okay..."

"What... what are you talking about?" he responded, his words stunted and confused.

April fought to keep down the spring of panic."It's okay, Donnie.. You can come with back to the lair and we'll take care of everything. Your brothers-"

Donatello jerked away, his arms dropping. His warmth fled from her and sank into his eyes where it disappeared without a trace. "Back to the lair?" He tilted his head at her, his gaze turning dark. It wasn't the look he'd given Raphael, the one that spoke of years of pent-up aggression and frustration mounting into rage. But it was still enough to frighten her, a yawning pit of darkness growing ever larger between them.

"Yes, the lair," she repeated firmly. She struggled to keep up the tender tone from before. "We've got to get back there now, Donnie. We need your help, please! Raphael – He's really hurt."

"He's alive?" Donnie asked sharply.

April stared, her lips parted in disbelief. It couldn't be. He sounded... annoyed. When she took a step forward and Donnie's response was to pull further away, her heart sank. "Yes, he's alive. And he needs your help," April gritted her teeth. "If you would just – just talk to your brothers, go see him, please, Donnie! He might not make it without you!"

"He won't make it with me, I can promise you that." Donnie shifted away, any hint of his earlier injury now gone from the tense gait.

April's fingers trembled at her sides. "Stop this right now, Donnie. You belong with your family and you know it. Whatever you're – you're angry or resentful about, it isn't worth this, Donnie. It isn't!"

"I'm not angry," he said, his voice unusually light and airy. He wasn't looking at her, but instead ticking his head in a peculiar fashion at their surroundings. Distant city lights reflected dimly in his eyes, making them glow when he looked sidelong at her. "Not anymore." April rounded his form until she was facing him, determined to make him _see _her. She had always, always been able to get through to him before, no matter what his mood. And she could still see that same affection he had for her, that deep love that shaped his every action since the day they'd met.

"Why are you doing this?" she begged, her hands jumping up to his arms. This time, he didn't move away from the contact and April continued, encouraged. "Just talk to me, please. Whatever's going on, I can help you, Donnie. You know I can. I care about you, we all do!"

Looping her arms around his neck, she tugged him close and pressed their foreheads together. She felt him melt against her embrace and it thrilled her, hope tentatively tugging at the strings in her chest. Her fingers smeared with blood from his injuries but she ignored them, twisting her digits into his hair and swaying his body with hers. "Come back with me," she whispered soothingly.

Donnie exhaled quietly, his eyes closed and his face close to hers. After a long moment, he spoke.

"I can't."

April's shoulder's trembled but she didn't open her eyes, instead keeping him tight against her. "Why _not_?" she asked desperately. Donnie's fingers reached up and brushed over hers, long digits curling lovingly over hers.

"Because Shredder is going to win," he whispered very softly.

April's eyes shot open and she jerked away, her grip falling away from him. She nearly toppled over with the desire to get away, her lips parted in horror. "Why would you say that?" she gasped, tears filling her eyes. Donnie frowned, his hand slowly falling from where it had been locked with hers. He tilted his head at her, his brows furrowed as if her repulsion confused him.

"Because it's the truth," he told her, shuffling closer even as she edged away. Anxiety washed over her mind and spread through her limbs when Donnie's lips quirked at a smile. It wasn't the smile she knew, not the one he'd sent in her direction so many times before. It was something else entirely. A madness making a terrible attempt to beguile. "Shredder is going to defeat the turtles, April. And when he does..." Donnie placed a hand to his own chest. "I'll be at his side. I'll be on the _winning_ side, April. And you will, too."

April's features contorted in a mask of fear. "What... What are you talking about?"

"There's no need for you to be afraid," he told her with a quick smile, his words an attempt at comfort. "Master Shredder has already promised me your safety. No harm will come to you. I would never do that. You are my priority, always."

"_Master Shredder_?" April repeated harshly, her body shaking violently. Comprehension dawned on her and her blue eyes widened. "You – Oh, god. Donnie, what did you say? What did you tell him?"

Donnie stopped his advancement and offered her a blank stare. "Everything."

An agonized sob escaped her. "Damn it, Donnie. No, please, no."

"I swear to you, April. You're safe! I did this – I did for you. For us!" he exclaimed excitedly, scurrying to her and taking both of her arms in his bloody hand. "This way, I'll be able to keep both of us safe. Forever. I'll be at Master Shredder's side and one day, I'll even lead the Foot clan. He's already promised me." April stared up at his face incredulously, even as her terror climbed towards its zenith. _He really believes what he's saying, _she realized with a painful jolt, and perhaps nothing else that evening made her feel as awful as knowing that. If he'd been manipulated or coerced, or if he was simply angry with his brothers – those things she could fight. But this was more than that. Whatever pieces of Donatello that had been left were fading away like the embers of a dying fire.

A furious wave of ire burst from her chest at the thought. "He - is – _fooling you, Donatello!_" she screamed, snatching the fabric of his shirt. "This is not what you want! This is not what I want!" She wobbled in his grip, her head dropping for a moment as she fought to recover her breath.

"This is the retro-mutagen!" she cried out. "This is Shredder and his insanity, this is everything that's gone wrong in the last six months but damn it, Donnie! This is not YOU!" She shoved away from him, but the heartbroken expression she glimpsed on his face gave her one last burst of hope. "Come back with me right now and we can let all of this madness go!" she pleaded, and for just a moment his eyes softened and so she stepped forward and brushed a hand at his jaw.

"Let me help you."

Something in her words triggered an aggressive growl in Donatello and he snatched himself away, his eyes narrowed on her in a way they hadn't before. Turning his back to her, Donnie moved over the roof in slow combative motions, as if he was looking for something to hit or destroy. April's stomach twisted in fear as she felt him pull further and further away. Finally, he turned to face her, now several feet away. "You want to help me?" he asked in low, heavy tones. His head tilted down at her so that his eyes cast a sinister shape along his features. A few steps forward brought him to her once more.

"You can help me... by delivering a message." April reluctantly met his gaze. "You tell those turtles..." Donnie's lips quirked again. "... they have _24 hours_ … to surrender themselves to Master Shredder." His mouth lifted in a bemused smile and the next words were a taunting whisper.

"Or I will _level_ the entire western half of this city."

The sound that April escaped her was foreign and painful, even as a numb sense of disbelief overtook her. As she remained silent, Donatello watched her unblinkingly. Finding her voice proved to be difficult, but she finally managed it.

"What.. What are you talking about?" she asked hollowly.

"Just a chemical compound I created in the lab," he said lightly, stepping away from her and turning his side to her. His eyes scanned the city. "With the help of Baxter Stockman," he added with a chuckle, as if he'd only just remembered a silly joke. "Highly volatile, very difficult to detect..." he went on, before turning to face her with a smirk. His eyes glinted.

"Just imagine," his voice grew dreamy. "An explosion with the range of an nuclear bomb... and all the destructive power of _napalm." _He dropped his head until it nearly sat on his right shoulder, his eyes roving her distraught features apathetically.

"You're bluffing," she choked out at last.

"Maybe," he conceded, unconcerned. His eyebrows lifted. "But the odds are against that. Would you like me to calculate them for you?" His grin was disaring.

"I'll call the police," she hissed.

A flinch escaped her when Donatello reached behind him and pulled out his staff. He didn't aim it at her, however, instead twirling it in his hand and then pointing over a line of buildings. "You mean... those police?" he asked, and she followed the end of the staff in the direction of a tall building decorated with a magnificent steeple top and clocktower.

"If they can't find it in their own station," Donnie lowered his staff with a hoarse chuckle. "What makes you think they can find it in the sewers?" He continued to hold the staff, his fingers twitching around its base even as he studied its immaculate structure. "I've had the Footbots lining this area for weeks. And they will never, ever find it. I made sure of that."

When April next met his gaze, all hints of mirth were gone. Instead, his narrowed gaze was as dark and macabre as she'd ever seen it, his jaw locked and his hands tight on his staff. It was then that April _saw _it. She saw what Donatello could have been in another life. What he might have grown into if not for Master Splinter's loving and disciplined care.

His brilliance sharpened into terrorism. His logic hardened into apathy. His obsessive tendencies, so carefully maintained by his family for the length of his life, manifesting in a neurotic, relentless blindness that cut him off from all other semblances of order, reason or morality.

They had taken for granted what he had been and what he could so easily be, April knew that now.

"You still wouldn't do it," she found her voice, even if it came out shakier than she cared to admit. "You wouldn't risk me. I could get hurt in the explosion."

She watched as Donnie's features twitched, a shift in his gaze signaling that even through the abandonment of his family, he still maintained his feelings for her. His love. "You're right," he agreed, his words deceptively gentle as he crossed the roof. A curled fingertip dropped down the length of her face, his red eyes drinking in the sight of her.

"Which is why you had better hurry," his lips found her forehead and pressed a kiss there, and when he pulled away he stooped low enough to meet her gaze with his, their faces close. "Because you and I will be seeing each other again very soon, April. You'll be safe. I'll make sure of it."

When he stepped away, April let loose an angry cry and rounded to face his retreating back.

"Donatello!" she shouted at his back, her heart pounding in the cavity of her chest, where it lay in pieces. He stopped, his back still to her, but he glanced over his shoulder in her direction. April's fingers clenched at her sides, her shoulders heaving. "If you do this," she snarled. "If you... hurt your brothers... I will _never _forgive you." A trembling hand raised to point an accusing finger at him.

"And I will hunt you _every day_ for the rest of our lives until you've paid for it."

Donnie's eyes shifted thoughtfully, and for a moment, April thought she might have gotten to him. However, he continued walking until he reached the edge of the rooftop, one foot lifting to prop up on the siding. A twist turned him to face her, both his heels now dangling high above the alley.

"You'll understand, April," he told her, his face strangely blank. "One day, you'll understand."

He disappeared.


	15. Chapter 15

Author's Note: Final Chapter, guys. Gear up.

**Song Suggestion **\- "I See Fire" by Ed Sheeran.

* * *

Unfocused eyes moved over the reflective surface of the blade, unconsciously logging the distorted features mirrored there. Shredder's morbid reception hall was quiet, absent its usual chaos. Even the constant noise from the streets had faded away, hushed in anticipation. A shout jarred Donatello out of his stupor, a lightning flash recognition of the voice making him jump up from his spot.

Two Footsoldiers entered Shredder's lair, a struggling April O'Neil between them.

Fury burst into Donnie's chest at the sight of it and he advanced on them, his staff drawn. The soldiers stumbled to a stop, holding the girl tightly between them but moving no further. Ignoring April's outraged cry when she spotted him, Donnie turned his ire to the Foot soldiers.

"What is she _doing _here? I ordered you to keep her safe, not bring her to Shredder's lair!"

"Master Shredder told us to bring her here," the left soldier said gruffly. "And he outranks you." Donnie's eyes widened, a manic glint the only hint of warning before he caught the mouthy soldier's ankle with his foot and shoved him down to the floor, the soldier's head making an unpleasantly loud crack against the steel. Blood seeped from the wound, but that did nothing to deter Donnie from slamming a knee into his throat.

"Donnie, stop!" April shrieked, panicked.

He gave her a split-second glance, his red eyes twitching with barely contained rage. The soldier beneath his knee sputtered behind his mask, gasping for air against the crushing weight, but Donnie was unrelenting until a voice snapped at him from the entrance of the room.

"Hisoka!"

Oroku Saki entered, his metal armor clinking with movement as he crossed the great open room. The baleful mutants that counted themselves among his clan entered behind him, each turning an apathetic or darkly bemused glare at Donnie's antics in turn.

Donatello pushed off the soldier with a growl, pausing only to cast a dark glare to the other Foot ninja. "Do you have something smart to say?" he hissed, even as the soldier stiffened at April's side and shook his head fiercely. Shredder appeared at Donnie's shoulder.

"I told them to bring her here, Hisoka." A heavy hand landed on his shoulder and April's eyes flickered at the movement. Donnie turned a slow circle to face the taller man, his brows furrowed.

"But why, Master Shredder? I didn't want her here. She doesn't have to see this."

"This is the only way to keep her safe," came Shredder's gravelly tones. His mismatched eyes peered over Donnie's head and met April's gaze, prompting her to sneer at him and turn her face away. Donnie's eyes dropped, his confidence wavering. As if sensing his discomfort, Shredder took his shoulder again and led him away.

"This way, we can keep her away from the turtles. And when the battle is won, you can take her in your arms... and rejoice in your victory."

Donnie gave a slow nod. "I suppose she is safest here." He glanced back at the other mutants and his gaze hardened. "But I don't want any of the others to touch her. Not any of them." Shredder nodded, waving a hand at the Foot soldier who held the furious redhead. Donnie looked up as the western walls peeled away, revealing the glass cage that housed the mutated Karai – and an identical one next to it, empty. The soldier led April to the cage and opened it with a switch on the side. April began to struggle in earnest, a series of growls and shouts escaping her before he tossed her inside. She countered by slamming a hand on the glass with a very unladylike curse.

"She is... spirited," said Shredder.

"Yes," Donnie agreed. He walked over to the cage and placed a calm hand on the glass, never faltering even as April howled and raged on the other side. "You'll understand soon," he told her through the glass. "You're safe now."

Next to the cage, Karai acted as April's mirror image, hissing and flailing against the glass in such a fit of insanity it left the glass walls smudged with blood. Donnie raised a brow at her and then took a step back. When he crossed the room, it was to stand at Master Shredder's side.

He closed his eyes. This time, when the fire smoldered behind his vision and the burn crept its way into his features, he did not press it away. He embraced it.

* * *

The air was black.

Thicker than smog, heavier than a current winding its way towards wayward swimmers, ready to plunge them into the depths under a disarmingly calm surface. The entrance had been unguarded, unlocked and unprotected, but that was to be expected.

As were they.

"_... Tell me you gotta' better plan than that, Leo." _

"_Raph! Get back to the couch – Casey, get the wraps -"_

"_You guys aren't goin'... anywhere without me..." _

"_This isn't up for debate, Raphael." _

"_No.. it sure as hell ain't." _

Leonardo slunk through the darkness, blades a welcome weight against his shell. His vision sharpened in the darkness, fighting for a glimpse of silhouette or shadow, anything to make sense of the lingering fog that eclipsed him. A path. He desperately needed a path.

"_You and Mikey can't face them all alone." _

"_We won't be alone, Casey. Master Splinter will be hiding in the rafters, waiting to help us when the moment is right. But we need to let Shredder think we've come without him." _

His feet scarcely more than a whisper against the floor, even when a newspaper floated by on a gust of wind that slipped through the broken stained glass windows. Every few moments, a car drove by and the headlights flashed multi-colored crystals on the otherwise dark ground, sometimes forming a macabre imitation of the holy image it had once depicted.

"_I'm not lettin' you two go, Leo. Not without me." _

"_You're – too – __**injured**__, Raphael!" _

"_I'm not losin' any more of my god damn brothers, Leonardo! I'm not! I – I can't take it, I won't be able to live with myself. So you either take me with you to live or leave me here to die." _

The doors stretched up ahead, invisible if not for the light that outlined its edges. Leonardo edged closer, his eyes narrowed and opaque. He kept his weapons at his back, not yet drawn, but his crouch was low and cautious.

"_And what about Donnie? Are we really going to fight him?" _

"_You're not, April. You're staying here." _

"_No! Master Splinter, please... please tell Leo to let me go." _

He reached the doors and drew himself up to his full height, his gaze never leaving the illuminated edges of the entryway. His fingers twitched at his sides, his heart thudding underneath the hard plastron.

"_Oroku Saki has taken my children for the last time. Tonight, we do not fight as individuals, but as a clan." _

"_Even against Donnie, Sensei?" _

"_We fight against our enemies, Michelangelo. Who that must be... is for you to decide." _

Leonardo opened the double doors with a slow creak.

Inside, a row of familiar menaces stood in a line with Oroku Saki at the center. At his side, cloaked in black, stood the humanized version of the lost Hamato brother. Leonardo stepped forward, his motions calm and assured, and as he did, two silhouettes emerged from the darkness to flank his sides.

Michelangelo and Raphael paused, allowing Leo an extra step forward to take his place at the front. He lifted his chin high, his eyes taking careful stock of the room. If he noticed the glass cages housing April and Karai to the side, he made no mention of it, nor did his gaze linger in their direction.

It did, however, stop upon the figure of his Donatello.

When Shredder stepped forward, Donnie matched his stride. It was difficult to gauge his expression behind the cover of his mask, but the flat glare was potent. The pair stopped some ten feet away, hands empty of their weapons.

"I see you have acted with reason," Shredder said, motionless as his mutants took silent steps to encircle them. Leonardo's eyes cut to the side, his brothers shifting nearby with tight, tense movements. "This is... for the best," he continued, crossed arms tightening over the heavy metal armor. "By sacrificing yourselves, you have saved us the trouble of mutilating this city," he sneered. "What a waste that would be..." Leo's narrowed gaze followed Donnie as he stepped away from his master, the tilt of his head hinting at a smirk hidden beneath his mask.

"... to kill so many for the lives of a few _mutant freaks." _

Donnie drew his weapon and twirled it in his fingers, the black staff whistling swiftly through the air before coming to a stop at his side, longer than he was tall. Without moving his head, Leonardo tore his gaze away from Donnie and settled it on Shredder. "Talk as much as you like, Oroku Saki," he told him, his blades sliding from their sheaths in an unhurried motion.

"After tonight, you'll have nothing more to say."

Shredder did not reply, instead taking a step back as his line of mutant followers moved forward. Leonardo leaned into a crouch and his brothers did the same at his side. Donnie crossed the line of mutants and took the center, his head inclined towards Leonardo without a hint of apprehension. Rahzar and Fishface to one side, Tigerclaw to the other. When Donatello raised his staff, he pointed it at Leonardo in a wordless challenge.

"_Done_," Leonardo growled fiercely.

_**BOOM. **_

Leonardo and his brothers rolled out of the way just in time for a series of blasts to rock the sanctuary, littered from above in the form of explosive pucks by a whooping Casey Jones. "Now, Jones! GO!" Leonardo shouted up to him before leaping into the fray, clouds of smoke and debris filling the room with confusion. To his left, Mikey jumped at Rahzar with a loud yell, whipping his nunchucks at the mutated dog before he'd even had a chance to recover from the explosion. TigerClaw and Fishface still struggled under the half of wall that had fallen on them, but TigerClaw was the first to recover, throwing off the heavy siding with a growl and leaping to his feet once more. Raphael pitched a handful of deadly shuriken at him before turning and pushing through the wave of pain that followed his every step.

Casey Jones dropped down with a shout to fill his place, smashing his hockey stick into TigerClaw's knees while the injured Raphael stumbled and fell his way to April's glass prison. With a pained gasp, he slammed a hand into the door release and April rushed out into the chaos.

"Raph!" she looped her arms around him as best as she could, looking down with surprise when he shoved something into her hand – her metal fan. "We're gonna need ya..." he gasped out, his eyes clenching shut with pain before he forced himself to pull away and stand. April sucked in a deep breath and nodded firmly. When Fishface appeared with a guttural hiss, she and Raphael stood side-by-side, weapons drawn.

Leonardo darted through the cloud of smoke and saw Shredder, standing far away at his chair, his unnatural gaze taking in the entirety of the battle. A silver throwing star whizzed by Leo's head, snapping him back into the nearness of his current opponent.

Out of the misty haze, Donatello emerged with a sinister twirl of his staff. _Clink. _His blades jutted out, slicing through the air as Donnie moved it behind his back and stood, chin lifted, waiting for Leonardo's assault. Leo crossed his blades in front of him and raised narrowed eyes to Donnie. For a long moment, neither of them moved.

And then, like two hellish storm fronts meeting to form a natural disaster, they crashed into one another in a flurry of steel and limbs. Leonardo matched each of Donnie's swipes with the two blades in his hands, katana smashing into Donnie's blades with lightning fast twists and jabs, steel meeting steel, the noises grating together over and over again. He swiped at Donnie's knees, but his brother was too fast and he flipped out of the way, countering with a cut to Leo's side before he'd fully landed once more. Leo swerved to avoid the next hit but was bludgeoned by the staff of Donnie's blade, the movements his brother had learned alongside him forsaken in lieu of this new, aggressive fighting style.

But Leonardo was quick to adapt, an inhuman growl growing with each hit and block, a noise that declared to any who might not have been paying attention that Leonardo Hamato was an animaland had never truly forgotten that fact, no matter the human lifestyle he and his brothers imitated.

"YAH!" Donnie swiped at him with a long blade but Leonardo caught it with the tip of his katana and turned, pressing his weight down on the blade and trapping Donnie's staff there long enough to swing around and kick him in the right shoulder, sprawling him to the ground. Donnie bounced back up, his head ticking to the side for just a moment. Leo quickly took in the motion and allowed himself a moment of panic. Donnie was thinking. He was _calculating_.

The next flurry of motions had Leonardo swatting away Donnie's strikes with no chance to recover for a hit of his own, nothing to do but block until he could jump away and regroup. Mentally, he called out for Master Splinter, begging him to come down, to take care of Shredder while he had Donnie distracted. But their master was curiously absent.

The two brothers struck at each other with deceptively cool motions, never matching the wild abandon of their fellow warriors. Each motion was too fast, too silent, too shrouded to taint with battle cries, too fast to observe and too fervent to slow.

Leonardo sliced down at Donnie's arm and nearly took off his hand, his blade almost making contact with the floor before Donnie whirled around behind him and sent his blade sailing through the air so close he felt it stir the air behind his neck. With a duck and a roll, Leonardo came up behind his brother and smashed his legs into Donnie's calves, sending the human onto his back with a thud. But again, he was too quick to recover and Leonardo's jab into the ground found only steel where his brother had been seconds before.

Across the room, Mikey cried out when he made contact with the wall, a bone rattling crunch following his descent to the floor. Rahzar, panting and bleeding heavily from his side where Mikey's blade had cut him, advanced on the orange-banded turtle with a snarl. "You foolish turtle brat," he scowled, one clawed hand finding his open wound. "You were a fool to seek me out... You were a fool to think that I was like you. You are weak." He raised a claw and snatched Mikey's neck, lifting him into the wall and thrusting him against the steel harshly. "What a waste of mutagen you all are..."

Mikey kicked in the air, his blue eyes clenched behind closed lids. He managed to garble out a noise, but the words were unintelligible. Rahzar leaned closer, his jaws clacking noisily. "What was that... freak?"

Mikey's legs jumped up and locked around Rahzar's extended arm, causing the mutant to widen his eyes in alarm. "We're more than just mutagen, Rahzar!" Mikey gasped out, clenching his legs and twisting his body in a sudden lurch. Rahzar's arm cracked under the pressure and splintered bone pierced his skin. He dropped Mikey with a pained shriek, but it was quickly cut short by a kusarigama chain as it wrapped tightly around his neck, Mikey firm on the other end.

"Which is a lot more than you can say," he growled, snapping his arms in a fierce throw that bludgeoned Rahzar into the steel wall with a sickly crack. Then he collapsed to his knees, his chains falling loose in his hands as he struggled to breathe against the pressure building in his chest from the last blow. Someone called his name from the corner of the room, but the desire to give in to unconsciousness was overwhelming. He slumped over next to the battered body of Rahzar, his once friend and idol.

April screamed from the corner she and Raphael guarded against Fishface, her fan glinting dangerously in her hand. "Mikey!" she shouted, only barely avoiding a sharp kick from the mutated fish. Raphael snarled and threw a heavy punch at him, but his injuries slowed him and he could only watch as Fishface darted away and then tossed out a kick that sent him flying.

He skidded to a stop near Mikey and Rahzar, his body finally succumbing to exhaustion and injury. April cried out his name, her blue eyes wide with terror before she sharpened them into razors and turned back to face the mutant.

"Xever, you son of a _bitch_," she jumped at him with her bladed fan, catching him just once in the arm before his scaly hand snatched the hand holding her fan and rammed it into the wall. He laughed and muttered a French curse, his inhuman eyes lowered on her condescendingly.

"You think you are a fighter..." he told her with a malicious snicker. "But you are only a little girl." April struggled, frustrated tears pushing at the backs of her eyes. "But I should thank you," he went on languidly. "After all, it is for the love of you that our dear Hisoka has joined us... and when we are done with him, we can dispose of the both of you together. As your loving hearts desire..."

April's jaw clenched, her eyes flashing and her lips parting in a wordless shriek. Her enraged gaze fell over something behind Fishface and her world came into focus. Throwing up her legs to cast him off balance, April snatched at his arm with her teeth and bit him, causing him to yelp and jerk his arm away. Hitting the ground running, April tore off after what she'd seen – one of Casey's explosive pucks, undetonated, fallen to the side. She barely had time to flick the switch when Fishface jumped on top of her with a snap of his jaws; she thrust the explosive puck in his mouth and then kicked him away.

He barely had time to look up at her before the explosive rocked him from the inside out, smoke and flame bursting out of every orifice. His cry was choked and brief, and April swallowed dryly before slumping against the wall, her cheeks stained with tears.

"_Holy shit, this cat is fast!" _

Casey Jones came rushing into view, skates pushing him along the steel floor in a flash. TigerClaw was hot on his trail, blasters poised and dogging Casey's every movement. When Donnie glanced up at the two speeding by, Leonardo used the moment of distraction to cut at his legs, but the other avoided it, dropping into a roll and snarling, the first real sign of emotion seeping into the features allowed by his mask.

Leonardo leapt over him in a roll and landed on the other side, kicking Donnie in the stomach and causing him to jump back to avoid another. Like this, he and Donnie were matched for speed, _clang clang clang _with their blades meeting overhead, to the side, occasionally hitting home and leaving them both with a thousand tiny cuts that begged to widen, loosen, do more than cause the acidic, irritating pain and distraction.

He turned with a fierce yell and swiped at Donnie's neck, the blade sliding into the other's collarbone beneath his uniform armor. When he spotted blood, he re-situated his stance and moved to bear down on his brother, to force him back now that he had the advantage. But Donnie was moving with new purpose now, as if he, too, was spurned by the sight of blood. Snapping his staff in two, Donnie changed his fighting style entirely, moving with two weapons instead of one and now Leonardo was backing away, his skills barely keeping him in time with the manic and unpredictable motions of his brother. One scythe-shaped blade cut his arm and blood seeped from the wound but he returned it in kind, catching Donnie along the thigh. Profanity in the form of liquid red dotted the floor and smeared under their feet, creating a no holds barred arena.

And then Leonardo's foot slipped, the warm puddles of blood beneath him working against his grip to the floor. The split-second of hesitation was all Donatello needed, and a high kick to Leonardo's face sent him spinning to the floor, his swords falling to the side but close to his hands.

Above them, Shredder watched from his chair.

Reaching down, Donnie flipped Leonardo onto his shell, his staff sliding into one piece again and a line of blood trailing lazily down the curved edge of his blade. Above the fabric of his mask, red eyes looked down the length of Leonardo's injured form without a hint of remorse, even something so simple as recognition now far from his regard. Before Leo could move, Donatello straightened and jammed a foot down onto his plastron, earning a pained grunt from his opponent. "Done," he echoed Leo's words from earlier in a taunting snarl. He raised the blade high.

"_DONNIE - NO_!"

The descent of the blade halted. Donatello turned his head up, his brows furrowed, his grip slack at the strangled yell from April O'Neil. Distraught, slumped against the wall and bleeding from a wound on her arm. Leonardo watched, transfixed, as Donnie's hold on his staff wavered and the first hint of uncertainty he'd seen all night passed through his brother's eyes.

Bringing up both feet, he slammed them into Donnie's chest and sent him flying across the room.

Donnie landed with a crash on the floor and this time, he could not get up in time to counter a hit from the broad side of Leonardo's blade. Shoving himself to a standing position once more, he snapped his blade at Leonardo with a snarl and put some distance between them, a length that was halved when Casey and TigerClaw tumbled into the middle of their circle, head over heels in a grapple for TigerClaw's guns. TigerClaw snatched Casey by the shoulder, crunching down on his clavicle with an iron grip. "I am tired of your games, boy!" he yelled gruffly, raising his blaster and aiming it point-blank at Casey's chest.

"CASEY!"

A shuriken blazed through the air and knocked the laser just as it fired, sending the red blast straight up and through TigerClaw's jaw. The result was a cauterized tunnel where his mouth and eye had been, a strange moment passing in which his body remained standing before it fell over in a lifeless heap. Casey dropped to the ground and twisted to look over at the barely conscious Raphael.

"I love you so freaking much, Raph!" he shouted, scrambling to get out of the way.

When TigerClaw's battered body slumped over, the path between Leonardo and Donatello was open once more. Leo raised a brow ridge at Donnie, his jaw tight as he flicked his katana to free it of blood. Across from him, Donnie was chillingly unconcerned about his falling comrades. Instead of acknowledging the body of TigerClaw, he took a few languid steps in a circle around Leonardo, his grip tight on his staff.

Only the two of them remained standing. The hall grew quiet and still.

Eyes never lifting from Donatello, Leonardo paced the same circle as his brother, his katana steady in his hands. After a few moments of strangled silence, Donnie reached up with red-stained fingers and tugged down his mask, a mocking grin taking the place of the ominous black fabric.

"What're you waiting for, Leonardo?"

He paced further, opposite of Leonardo in every way.

"Why don't you finish me? Why don't you attack?" His head lolled to the side lazily, his lips parted in thought. "Could it be... that you're waiting for someone?"

Leonardo stopped.

"... Splinter, for example?" Donnie asked, his grin widening at Leonardo's stillness. With a flick of his hand, an unseen door pulled away and the heavy thuds that echoed were the only warning of what was to come. Leo's blue eyes snapped to the chute that appeared in the wall just before a body came tumbling into few, a heap of robes and dark fur.

Limbs frozen, Leonardo slid a steely glare to Donatello. The grip of his katana felt hot in his hands, the leather a deep burn on his skin. Donnie let out a low chuckle. He, too, had stopped his pacing and now stood opposite of Leonardo, one eyebrow quirked. His lips twisted with amusement.

"Did you really think I wouldn't know he was here, brother? Do you think I don't know you at all?" A lax twirling of his staff before he pointed it at the limp, lifeless form of Hamato Yoshi, still as it had ever been and ever would be. "Master Shredder had wanted me to keep him alive to watch you all fall... but I got a little carried away."

He paused, allowing his words to travel the space between them and settle on Leonardo's tense, trembling limbs. Apparently, this did not satisfy him, because he drew closer and his voice dropped.

"What's the matter, Leonardo? Are you upset?" he taunted, amused. "I don't blame you. After all, your father is dead... your brothers are defeated." He drew closer and ducked his head low, refusing to allowing Leo to look away from him. "And after I kill you..." his eyes drifted up and Leo's followed, both pairs finding the glass cage that still housed an enraged serpentine mutant.

"After I kill you, Leonardo..." he whispered, "... I think I'll give Karai just enough retro-mutagen to keep her lucid. So that she knows, day after day after day of her miserable, _suffering_ existence... that she was once human."

Their gazes locked, a twisted smile shaping Donatello's mutated features.

"And then I will kill her," he murmured.

"_AGH!" _

Twin blades came down on Donatello's head and he only just managed to block them with his staff, the force of the blow sending him crashing to his knees with a painful crack.

For the first time in the entire fight, he looked panicked.

With a fierce snarl, Leonardo whirled and snapped a kick to his ribs that sent him flying across the room, smashing into the floor in a heap of tangled and aching limbs. He had no time to counter, no time to even stand before Leonardo was upon him, smashing the handle of his blade into Donnie's cheek and sending him spinning to the floor. With a strangled yelp, Donnie snatched up his staff and met Leonardo's blades, but he had only a few desperate blocks against his brother before he was on the ground again, a blade swiping so close to his throat it left a thin line of blood trailing down his collarbone and seeping into his clothes.

It was at this moment that any who could stomach to watch realized with a growing sense of fear that, despite all that had happened in the last half hour and the six months that preceded it, Leonardo Hamato had _still _been _holding back_ against Donatello.

No more.

April watched as Donnie fought to meet Leonardo's blows but his staff was knocked away each time, the flash of Leonardo's blades a twisting wind in comparison. A startled cry escaped her when Leonardo knocked him to the floor and Donnie slammed onto his back against the steel with a crunch. When he didn't immediately rise again, Leonardo slowed his advance and turned a cool glare down to his brother. April inhaled sharply.

_Just give up, Donnie. Give up and Leo will let you walk away! Please!_

A heartbeat passed in stillness. Then Donnie jumped up with a yell and grappled for his blade with bruised fingers. In a flurry of motion, Leonardo's right katana cut Donnie's arm just above the inside of his elbow and then across his shoulder. Donnie yelped and stumbled back, his arm holding the staff dropping under the weight of his pain. April barely managed to stifle a sob from her corner when Donnie snarled at Leonardo, unwilling to just – _stop, please, stop!_

"Do you forfeit?" came Leonardo's hard voice.

Donnie pulled himself up as tall as he could manage. "_No_!" he howled, the single syllable scarcely escaping him before Leonardo crossed his blades in front of him and silently sliced down on Donnie's torso, a red X cutting its way into Donnie's front just below his shocked features.

"Don - _nie_!" April cried out from her spot, sobs forcing her over onto her knees, air fighting its way out of her lungs only to be stifled by the tightness in her throat. Across the room, Casey limped over to her, dragging her away from the glass cages and to the corner where he'd piled Raphael and Mikey. April screamed and flailed, but strength had left her and she could only fight from the floor.

Donnie dropped to his knees in front of Leonardo, his eyes wide and his lips parted. Blood dotted his jaw and curled around his temple.

By the time he fell, Leonardo had already settled his narrowed gaze on Oroku Saki.

Lifting a blade, he pointed it at the master. "_Get down here_," he hissed. "So I can kill you."

Shredder stood, expression features raking over Leonardo as he moved from his chair, his arms snapping with movement until his blades slipped out from the sheaths of his armor. From her miserable spot on the floor, April could see the minute trembling of Leonardo's hands and shoulders. He was exhausted from his duel with Donatello and now he was forced to face the Shredder alone.

But nothing in his face betrayed even a hint of apprehension, only malice coloring his features. "Tonight," said Shredder heatedly. "... I will end you." They both stilled for a moment before leaping at one another. _Clang! Clink! Bang! _Their blades kissed and sang, meeting in a clatter that echoed through the air in blow after blow, faster even than when Leo had fought with Donnie.

"You are no match for me," Shredder snarled, slicing down at Leonardo's shoulder and catching him in the bicep before the turtle could roll away. Leo pushed back a wince, his own blades snapping around and catching Shredder by surprise, throwing him off balance. Leonardo followed it by pummeling him with a series of swift hits, but April could see his strength was waning. He had expended much of his efforts on Donatello and now Shredder was gaining the upper hand, striking more than deflecting. He drew blood from Leonardo once, twice, escaping much physical harm himself underneath his glinting armor.

April turned her face away at one particularly brutal hit that sent Leonardo flying into a wall, a streak of blood following his grinding descent to the floor. Leonardo pushed himself back up and Shredder advanced on him slowly, unconcerned. His blades shifted on his great arms, clinking loudly.

"The boy has already given me the retro-mutagen for Karai," sneered the Shredder. "And you have saved me the trouble of killing him myself." He smashed the blunt edge of the blade into Leonardo's jaw and sent him careening to the floor again. "I could not see what he was, not on the first day... or even after the first time he met with you in battle. But when I saw his love for that girl, I knew..."

Fists clenched at his side.

"I knew I had seen that _look _before... I had glimpsed it... all too often. Did you believe I was fooled? That I could not see... that he was the mirror image of myself?" Another hit, this one pushing Leonardo back into the wall next to the glass cages where Karai flailed and hissed. "When he first arrived, I doubted my own suspicions... but it quickly became clear that he, too, has seen the dark path I have walked all these years."

A kick to Leonardo's plastron rocketed him into the steel and he let out a raspy gasp, his hand falling weakly to his stomach. Shredder stopped several feet away and a low, rumbling chuckle echoed, the noise reminiscent of Donnie's chilling laughter from before.

"But he was too weak to make it to the end." Shredder raised a razor sharp blade and pointed it at Leonardo. "I am not. I finish this tonight, turtle. I finish the Hamato clan and all it has ever stood for. You will die at my feet." Leonardo's blue eyes lifted and he allowed himself an agonizing moment to look over at Karai, crying out in feral wails from her prison. He looked back to Shredder and took in a deep, gratifying breath that expanded his chest and flooded his limbs with purpose.

He closed his eyes.

_Unbalance your opponent. _

_Do not fight the armor, but the man inside the armor. _

_No matter what... or who you must sacrifice. _

Colorless eyes narrowed into daggers glowing with renewed purpose. In a lightning fast motion, Leonardo yanked out a shuriken and hurled it into the wall switch next to Karai's cage. The door beeped and opened, the enraged mutant flying out of the cage and turning to snap her jaws at him.

Gazes locked just as Leonardo's hand clasped his blade and he turned, a wordless cry of grief ripping from his chest as he brought the katana down on the back of Karai's neck, slicing through her serpentine skin and separating her head from her deformed body.

"_KARAI! NO!_" shouted Oroku Saki.

Shredder thrust out his arm but he was too late, too far away to stop Karai's flailing body from falling to the floor with only a sputtering valve of blood where her head had once been. A gaping jaw and forked tongue lolled open on the floor, dead. Leonardo slowly turned his clenched jaw up to Shredder, both hands wrapped around the hilt of a single katana.

Shredder came at him wildly, rage blistering his normally calculated movements and transforming them into reckless thrusts and jabs. Leonardo countered them with growing ease, knocking away one hit after another and twisting all around Shredder's enraged form. He swiped at Leonardo and missed, yelling out when the blade of the katana found a kink in his armor and thrust home there.

A kick from Leonardo shoved him back against a wall but he rolled away, his arm tossing out a sloppy hit in Leonardo's direction. Leo caught the arm with a blade and then turned it, using his weight to kick heavily against Shredder with both feet. The ninja master fell to his knees and howled, a furious scream escaping him when Leonardo evaded yet another hit and then landed smoothly behind him.

Leo dropped his katana to the ground carelessly and flicked his hand. A silver blade jumped from beneath his hand wrappings, falling into waiting fingers. Leonardo turned the blade in a quick twirl and used his other hand to yank back Shredder's helmet until the other's neck was exposed, his fingers unforgiving under Oroku Saki's jaw.

He leaned his head close to the other's, his blank eyes a pair of jagged warnings.

"_Her name was Miwa," _Leonardo whispered through clenched teeth before he snatched the blade across Shredder's throat. Blood sprayed from the wound and carpeted the floor, a liquid gasp the last words of Oroku Saki, head of the Foot clan.

Leonardo shoved his body away, the small silver blade shaking in his palm. The body toppled forward with a wet plop against the growing pool of blood on the floor. In the distance, Leonardo registered the voices of April and Mikey. He raised a trembling hand to his face, the wet blade smearing red over his cheek in a moment of silent sorrow.

"Leo?"

He looked up and drank in the sight of both of his brothers, standing weakly and propped up by their injured human friends. "Master Splinter," sobbed Mikey, hobbling over to the collapsed form of their adopted father. April hurried to his side and moved to pull him away, but then she hesitated, her brows furrowed. Leaning forward, she pressed an ear to Splinter's chest. After several seconds of silence, her lips parted in a gasp.

"He's... He's alive! Guys, Master Splinter is alive!"

Leonardo rushed over to the others and helped them turn over their Sensei while April worked at his pulse points, feeling for any signs of life. "He's hardly injured at all," she said, confused. Looking up at Leo for a moment, she turned back to Splinter. "I don't think he was attacked. Just... drugged."

"But Donnie said Master Splinter was dead!" Mikey piped up, his blue eyes wide and shimmering. He hugged Sensei's unconscious body against his torso.

"Why would he do that?" Leonardo asked quietly, his eyes turning to April. "Why would he lie?"

April's eyes filled with tears, her lips trembling. "Because – Oh, God. Because he's still Donnie!" she cried out, jumping to her feet. "He's still Donnie! He's – He's still Donnie, still Donnie, still Donnie." Stumbling over herself more than once, April found Donnie's bloody form on the steel floor and fell next to him, her hands working frantically over his front. "Come on, Donnie... Please, I – I know you're in there," she curled over him, her fingers clenched in the torn and shredded fabric. When she lifted her face, she inhaled shakily. Then a spark filled her heart.

Leaping up once more, she raced over Donnie's broken body to Shredder's empty chair. After fumbling for several seconds, she found what she was looking for – the case of retro-mutagen he had boasted about earlier. Snatching it up, she ran back to Donnie and pulled out the first vial she laid her hands on. Snapping a needle on the front, she yanked Donnie's torso over to her and jabbed the needle in his chest. Her fingers slipped away, leaving the needle embedded there as the retro-mutagen leaked its way into his body.

April sniffled, her head bowed over his bleeding torso, her knees soaked and red.

The lair was finally quiet.

* * *

Blurred figures, shadows outlined in fuzzy grays and blacks were the first things that registered on his mind. Shifting uncomfortably, the lone figure on the table raised his head and immediately regretted it. After several moments of silent effort, he opened his eyes.

Sitting nearby on a stool, arm cast in a sling was Michelangelo. He had his head bowed in the direction of a comic book, but his eyes were still and he hadn't turned a page in a long while. The solitary patient looked past him to Casey Jones, who was chewing on a candy bar and picking at some bandages on his shoulder. Raphael approached, leaning heavily on a crutch and swatted his friend's hand away.

Blinking groggily, he turned his head back to Michelangelo.

"Mikey?"

The orange-banded turtle's head snapped up, his eyes wide. "Wha – _Donnie_!"

He jumped up, throwing aside his comic and gesturing to the others. "Guys, he's – he's awake!" Before he got to the table, however, he skidded to a stop and hesitated. A deep frown creased his features.

"D... Donnie? It is really you, right?" he asked, even as the others rushed around him. They too kept their distance, each eyeing him in turn. Donatello Hamato raised a brow and waved a hand weakly. After a long moment of silence, he dropped his head back to the table in exhaustion.

"Has Raph been feeding you cough syrup again?" he asked warily.

"IT'S HIM!" Mikey jumped forward and wrapped Donnie in a hug and he was startled to feel tears dripping down his neck from his little brother's face.

"Whoa – Hey, ow." He gently pushed his brother away and dropped a hand to his front. Fingers brushed against a cool, hard plastron.

Mikey stepped away and the others watched without talking as Donnie stared at them all, his brows furrowed in confusion. Then he turned his gaze back to himself, his three fingers moving down the front of his plastron until they grazed a deep indention. Following the line of the cut, Donatello traced a wide X, deeper and narrower than any of his other wounds. The others fidgeted nearby but Donnie had forgotten them, a frown deepening as his thoughts gave way to feelings and the feelings brushed against memories.

_It's me – it's me, Donnie! _

_I am AFRAID! _

_One small step. _

_I've got an idea. _

_I can be anything you need me to be. _

_What is wrong with you? _

_I love you, April. _

_There's nothing wrong. _

_Why is this happening? _

_NO! _

_Everything is as it should be, April. _

_You're the one who DROPPED her in the mutagen. _

_You'll understand. _

_What did you tell him, Donnie?_

_**Everything**__. _

Donatello pitched forward from the table, an anguished cry sounding as the muddled memories assaulted him. Three-fingered hands curled at his head, eyes filled with tears and chest curling in on itself in terror. Muffled movement sounded next to him and a cool hand landed on his arm, pale and small in comparison to his alien features. Donatello looked up, his red eyes wide.

"I see it – like – God, it feels like something so far away, but..."

April did not move her hand away but dropped her head without a word, her pained expression turning to the side. Donatello scanned the room, his lips parted and his breathing labored. His cries started in earnest then, clouding his vision. "I can see it like a _nightmare_, something that made so much sense in a different world..." His hands dropped suddenly.

"Where is everyone? Is everyone – did I -"

"Shh," April gently turned him to face her and the others. "Everyone's fine."

"Well, not everyone," Raphael said from the side, his green eyes looking over Donnie uncertainly. Donnie's body trembled, his large hands falling to the side as his eyes looked dully to the reflective surface of the cabinet in his laboratory.

"Who?"

April inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. "Karai." She swallowed tightly. "But Shredder is dead, too."

"Leo...?"

"He's … alive," she answered hesitantly. "We haven't seen him in a few days."

Donnie nodded numbly, the still fuzzy images of his mutation prodding at the darkest corners of his mind, begging for entry. Donnie fought to push them away but he knew they would persist. Perhaps forever, if the heaviness in his chest was any indication. His body ached and he suspected it had a greater source of discomfort than his many wounds.

"What about Master Splinter?" he whispered, his eyes turned away.

"He's okay," Mikey stepped forward again, though he didn't reach out for Donnie this time. "He woke up a few hours after everything was over." Shifting uncomfortably on his feet, Mikey sniffled and looked over Donnie's form again. The turtle form he'd known most of his life. Somewhere off to the side, his purple mask lay, absent its owner.

No one moved or spoke for a moment, and when Donatello lifted his stricken gaze, he spotted Mikey and Raph standing closely together. With a burst of determination, he shoved his wounded form from the table and hobbled over to them both at breakneck speed. The two turtles jolted with surprise when Donnie collapsed against both of them, his arms tight around their necks in a desperate embrace.

"I don't care if you don't want to hug me back," he squeezed his eyes shut but tears poured through, even as his brothers remained still. "I just have to hold you guys one more time before you push me away."

No reaction for a long, tense moment. Then Raphael moved first, dragging a heavy arm around Donnie's shell and pulling him up into a tight embrace that supported his brother's lax weight. Mikey's arm joined it and the three of them encircled each other, each gaining a trembling hold.

"We shoulda' _done_ more, Donnie..." whispered Raphael tearfully. "I shoulda – I saw you, I saw you startin' to lose it and I didn't do a damn thing..."

"We just thought it would be okay before all this was over," whimpered Mikey as he curled into the two of them. "We weren't paying attention, bro. I'm sorry."

"Oh, god... Please – please don't, Mikey..."

"S'pose to keep you, safe, Don... I – I didn't do it, I'm -"

"Don't! Just – Just... give me a chance. A chance to be a part of your your team again," murmured Donnie shakily. "Whatever you want me to do..."

"Dude," Mikey lifted his head, his freckled cheeks strained with tears. "Just be Donnie. The real Donnie. That's good enough for us." Raphael nodded in agreement even though his eyes were clenched shut and most of his face was hidden. The three of them stayed like that for several minutes, occasionally whispering to one another and then falling silent. Finally, they helped Donnie back to the table.

Raphael gruffly smashed a hand over his cheek to hide the tears.

"You should really talk to Casey," he said more firmly, clearing his throat. He jabbed a finger in the human teen's direction. "He's the one who spotted it. He was the one who did somethin'."

From his place next to Donnie's computer, the battered and bruised Casey lifted a shoulder and grinned at Donnie's surprised – and then grateful – stare. "Hey, you know me. I get bored easy. Sometimes I like a little excitement," was his unabashed response. Donnie gave him a very weak smile in return and reached out a hand, fingers curled. Casey crossed the room to bump fists with the turtle. Then he looped an arm around Donnie's shoulders in a hug, careful of his wounds.

"I actually missed ya, man." Casey pulled away and gave Donnie a shaky nod, his cocky facade fading away under a cloudy expression. "I missed ya for real." Donnie touched his friend's arm and gave it an affectionate squeeze. When he looked up and away from the others, he spotted April standing off to the side, one hand curled around the bicep of her opposite arm. Raphael glanced over at her and then turned to the others, motioning with his crutch. "Come on guys. Let's go hang out in the living room."

The others moved out, but not before Mikey gave Donnie one last hug.

Raphael reached out with a good arm and shut the lab door behind them, leaving April and Donatello alone. Once again, the lab was silent, neither speaking. Donnie refused to look up, his eyes on his lap. He flexed his fingers in front of him, much like he had done on the day of his accident. Green, three-fingered hands. A hard plastron. A heavy shell. He mused on them thoughtfully even as he heard April approach.

"How can you stand to look at me?" he asked at length, his voice dull.

Soft fingertips moved to his jaw and tilted his head up. April O'Neil's face filled his vision and, if possible, his limbs weakened further. They threatened to collapse altogether when April smiled, a genuine expression of happiness that lifted even the teary corners of her eyes.

"Because I _finally_ get to see you again," she sniffled happily.

"April," Donnie ached to draw her near, wanted nothing more than the comfort of having her close, but everything in his sickly mind screamed at him that he didn't deserve it, not even for a moment. "April, I … I remember... I see it in my mind. I can feel the anger, the _reasoning_ behind the horrible things that I did..." he touched his chest, the deep cuts on his plastron unpleasant on his fingers. "... I see it as it made sense to me then but now it's fighting with everything I feel now. And – and nothing, nothing I ever do will be okay again. Nothing can justify this, nothing can keep me from hating every single piece of myself."

He inhaled to steady himself but the tears fell as swiftly as they had before, never stopping.

"You – you are the only part of all of those things, those memories... that I can see in my mind without feeling like I'm being torn apart," he mumbled incoherently.

"Do you still feel that anger?" she asked softly, her curled fingers drawing down the trail of tears that etched their way onto his cheeks.

"I can feel where it _was_," Donatello admitted, ashamed. "Like everything it touched is charred and broken."

"Then put something else there," whispered April soothingly, her blue eyes trained on his. "Spend the rest of your life fixing it if you have to."

"I will die still feeling this way," he told her earnestly. Unsteady fingers moved to April's face and he allowed himself that moment of blissful contact. Once he brushed her skin, the urge to curl her in his arms grew too fervent and he pulled her into his embrace. April slipped into the pocket of space and turned her lips to graze them over his cheek.

"Then it sounds like you have a lot of work to do."

* * *

It took three days to find him.

Leonardo was at the docks, high on a packing crate and facing the bay. He turned a small silver blade in his hands. When Donatello stepped up behind him, his brother did not react, though he must have known he was there. Donnie followed his brother's stare to the churning water, dark under the inky night. He did not sit next to him but remained standing, a few feet behind the eldest Hamato.

Words seemed hollow and weak. Donnie scrambled for something to say, anything that might even hint at his desperation, his anxiety, his sorrow. But none came, and so he remained quiet. That is, until Leonardo spoke.

"Are you well again?"

Donnie's eyes flickered and he nodded before he remember his brother couldn't see him. He stepped forward, closer to Leo's side and spoke. "I – I'm as well as I can be right now," he told him truthfully. They looked out over the dark waves. "I'm – Leo, about... about Karai -"

Leo did not respond.

Donnie shuddered and forced himself to continue. "I don't – I don't remember everything about the battle. I don't even remember everything about the past month. But... but I know – I know she didn't make it and I am _so _ -"

"Spare yourself the guilt," Leonardo turned just enough to look up at Donatello, his arms clasped around his knees."I killed her."

Donnie stared. "... You, Leo?"

Leonardo stood, his body shifted away from Donnie as he turned the blade over in his fingers. "I needed to defeat Shredder. That was how I chose to do it," he said tonelessly. Looking down at the small weapon, so like its original owner, Leo pressed a fingertip over its sharp edge. "Karai was gone."

"Leo..." Donnie swallowed. "God, why isn't there a stronger word than _sorry?" _

"Because at that point," Leonardo faced him, his words even and flat. "... there isn't anything left to say."

Donnie lowered his head, unable to look at his brother. The conversation fell away and the howling of wind rolling off the water took its place. When Donnie managed to look up once more, Leonardo was studying the weapon in his hand.

"It's okay," he said and he sounded more like he was talking to himself than Donatello. "We met at the end of a blade. It was only fitting we said good-bye there, too." With a movement so sharp and sudden it startled Donnie into taking a step back, Leonardo winded back his arm and pitched the blade forward into the water. It whistled loudly before landing with a splash, unseen in the darkness.

"Leonardo," Donnie touched his brother's arm and did not miss the clenching of muscle there. "I will spend every day of the rest of my life … _fighting _to give you back at least a portion of what you've lost." Leonardo eyed Donnie up and down before stepping out of the other's hold and raising both brows.

"Good luck with that," he murmured.

* * *

New York City sat under a blanket of snow, the streets grimy with the filthy ice and water, the pollution from the traffic and the many footfalls that paced the sidewalks.

Raphael was the first to leave the sewer, leaping happily for the first fire escape he saw and then stopping when he heard Michelangelo whoop behind him. Leonardo jumped out next and even his solitary stare over the city lightened under the bracing winds of the New York winter. He'd barely begun his ascent to the rooftop when Donatello emerged with a flip, his three-toed feet landing smoothly on the snow.

When he yelped loudly at the freezing snow, his brothers laughed before jumping further up the fire escape. Donnie snickered and jumped up after them, his fingers tight around the freezing cold rails. Just before he began to climb in earnest, the clearing of a throat behind him stopped him in his tracks.

"Without even saying good-bye?" teased April O'Neil from her spot on the ground, arms folded over her chest. Grinning, Donnie dropped down one level and hung from the fireplace by one arm, the other extended to the flushed redhead waiting for him.

April hurried forward and her arms leaped around his neck, tugging him down for a kiss. Above them, Donnie's brothers snickered and cat-called.

"Be safe," April whispered.

"I will," replied Donnie with a tender smile.

Then he was away, scaling the fire escape in record time until he reached the rooftop where he joined his brothers, four mutated silhouettes against the New York City skyline.

* * *

Penance.

It was something Donatello wasn't remarkably familiar with in the early years of his life. So when the day came that Donatello was forced to look back and accept all that he had done, it was with an unfamiliar, gut-wrenching sort of apprehension. One that let him know that penance was more than suffering and regret. It was action.

All of this started because he wanted to fix something. And yet after it was all done, he had no choice but to start from scratch.

He'd be damned if he let that stop him, though.

* * *

Author's Note: Fin. Ending Theme: "I See Fire" by Ed Sheeran.


End file.
